Trusting God in the Deep End
"I realize that our Heavenly Father is like this, holding us as we're in the deep end. Sometimes he lets go of our arms, but he never swims away."
Memories of my dad came flooding back in with the tide today as I walked along the beach. He was the one who taught me how to swim in the ocean. With mom on the shore, and my sister and brother back where toes could still touch ocean floor, dad would take me out just a little bit farther. I was taller and, like him, never wanted to leave the water. We were always the last two out of the motel pool or lake on vacations.
In the ocean, we'd tiptoe further and further out, until just past the rule of staying where we could firmly stand. But with my dad's hand on my arm, he'd carry me out past the body boarders and the breaking waves, to the stiller, deeper water, quiet with just the two of us. The thrill of seaweed brushing my legs and not knowing what was under me blended with the special moment of being out there with my dad. He was strong and big and I always felt safe with him. He made me feel courageous. In the moment he'd let go of me, allowing me to actually swim next to him, ever watchful, I felt free. And loved. And strong.
I realize that our Heavenly Father is like this, holding us as we're in the deep end. Sometimes he lets go of our arms, but he never swims away. He teaches us to use the gifts and tools he's given to bring him glory and us joy.
Our father hems us in even in the toughest of times. Even when it doesn't feel like it.
I can feel brave and strong and confident even in the most turbulent of waters, for my heavenly father will never leave me. Like Peter in Matthew 14, it is when I take my eyes off Christ that I start to flail and drown. With my eyes on Him, it's easier for me to remember the truth that He will never let me go and have the confidence to swim through even the most turbulent waves.
Memories of my dad came flooding back in with the tide today as I walked along the beach. He was the one who taught me how to swim in the ocean. With mom on the shore, and my sister and brother back where toes could still touch ocean floor, dad would take me out just a little bit farther. I was taller and, like him, never wanted to leave the water. We were always the last two out of the motel pool or lake on vacations.
In the ocean, we'd tiptoe further and further out, until just past the rule of staying where we could firmly stand. But with my dad's hand on my arm, he'd carry me out past the body boarders and the breaking waves, to the stiller, deeper water, quiet with just the two of us. The thrill of seaweed brushing my legs and not knowing what was under me blended with the special moment of being out there with my dad. He was strong and big and I always felt safe with him. He made me feel courageous. In the moment he'd let go of me, allowing me to actually swim next to him, ever watchful, I felt free. And loved. And strong.
I realize that our Heavenly Father is like this, holding us as we're in the deep end. Sometimes he lets go of our arms, but he never swims away. He teaches us to use the gifts and tools he's given to bring him glory and us joy.
Our father hems us in even in the toughest of times. Even when it doesn't feel like it.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you. -Psalm 139:5-12
