Treading Water

I'm treading water.
I have someone with me but when I hold on to him, in hopes he'll hold me up out of the water, we both end up going under. 

The feeling of unwanted water in my belly and the need to cough it out of my lungs goes unsatisfied as I can't find a footing to bring my head above water. The sense of weakness and hopeless-exhaustion overwhelms me. My tears mingle with the water that is killing me.

I can hardly breath but I can't go looking for The Rock because of him who's with me. He talks about land, he knows we both need The Rock but he continues to tread aimlessly. 

I'm so scared that if I leave, he won't follow. Instead he will give up and drown, convinced that The Rock can only be found in the depths of the sea. 

If I could only bring The Rock to him! Moving him is impossible because we'll both drown. He has to go on his own and I do too but... if I leave, he'll die. I could never forgive myself. 

So I guess I'll swallow the waves as they come and continue treading water.


"God, you can move entire mountains but all I'm asking for is one rock, one rock big enough for both of us to stand on."

Holding On

Sometimes the things we hold on to are comparable to holding a rabid squirrel by the tail.

 It is painfully obvious that letting go of that squirrel is the best thing for you and yet instead of dropping it, you squeeze tighter involving both hands in the escapade. Your dad, who's on the porch, told you to never pick up a squirrel! and is now telling you to give it to him. If you just let go and don't give it to him, the squirrel will attack you. The only way out is to trust your dad to take the squirrel away from you and to nurse the wounds you attained from your direct disobedience.

 God is your father and sin is a rabid squirrel. We cling to our sins even when it couldn't be much more obvious that they are tearing us apart, even when we know this is what keeps us from communion with God. You have to surrender but you're scared because you think your grip is all that is keeping you from pain but truly, only God's grace and self-sacrifice can save you from that pain.

Let go of the squirrel. 

Let go of that sin.

God is faithful. God is just. God is forgiving.