These last few months have been tough. I’ve ventured in to new areas that make me uncomfortable and scared and bone-weary, and the result has been a lot of anxiety, and at times, depression. Being the get ‘er done girl that I am, my gut reaction to seasons like this is, “Ok, so what do I need to DO, God?”
Give me the formula to get back to awesome. Show me what scriptures to dwell on, what truth to grasp, what prayers to pray. Show me my error and I’ll fix it. Tell me what to think and do and I’ll do it.
I was reminded last night of a poem I read years ago, back when I first started to realize what a winding road faith can be. I read it like God is speaking to me.
by Philip Booth
Lie back daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man’s float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on the long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.
Have you spent much time floating on water? Can you picture yourself like this child, trusting her father to hold her as she’s learning to swim, when she’s scared and tired? There’s something so freeing and relaxing about it, if you can let go of trying to keep yourself afloat and just let the water hold you. He reminds her to look to that which is bigger than her. It’s the definition of “Be still and know.”
Know that He is there.
Know that nothing is wasted, every tear is caught, every sigh is heard.
Know that He knows what He’s doing with you.
Know that He knows the way out of your wilderness, and He will lead you in His timing and His ways.
Know that the places that seem the most stagnant are often the places where He is preparing you for something you cannot see.
Know that His love will hold you, when you let go.