Underwater

The frightful feeling of being underwater.  The way emotions and hard times can wash over you like a fierce, crashing wave.  It leaves you struggling, disoriented, ears muffled, eyes blurry, chest tight and heart racing.  The way you grow weary, so tired, while you struggle to reach the surface.  Murky waters, uncharted territory that you cannot navigate.  Sometimes coming up for air just long enough to breathe before being pulled back under, fighting the current, kicking your way toward the surface but running out of energy to continue.

 

Haven't we all been here at sometime in our lives?  Underwater looks and feels so different to all of us.  As unique as the journey that takes us below the surface.  The loss of a loved one, dear to the heart, whether through death or divorce, calendars filled with obligations that we can't keep up with, projects we can't complete, raising children, false friendships that wound us, loss of employment or inability to find work, financial difficulties, car trouble, illness, children with special needs.  Sometimes we walk into these waters, one small step at a time, not quite realizing how quickly the water will be over our head.  Other times we are plunged backward, sinking below the surface before we have a chance to realize what is happening.  It doesn't matter how we get there, what matters is how we get out.

Panic sets in and we flail, and we fight, peering up through murky waters, churned by our own hands.  We want to regain control...to swim...to breathe...to be freed...to be saved from what lies beneath.

And then the moment of clarity, the calm that interrupts our storm, the gentle reminder that we need only to surrender.

Matthew 11:28-30

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

When I feel like my world is underwater, when I am drowning, I turn to him.  Unfortunately, this is usually after I have wriggled into my wet suit (the one that is too small), made an unsightly attempt at snorkeling while swallowing and choking, lost a flipper while kicking furiously toward what I believe to be the surface.  All the while splashing around in circles, going nowhere fast. 

 Then, as I grow weary I remember.........he didn't intend for me to do this alone.  I surrender and I pray and I trust and I know that he hears.  He doesn't always rescue me as quickly as I would like, but he is a God that is faithful, sovereign, and eternal.  He has promised he will never leave my side.  I am the one who has turned away, not him.  When I remember that I cannot do it alone, and I settle down long enough to hear his voice, he reminds me to take his hand and just keep swimming.