Lungs Full of Water

There are so many things happening in life right now that leave one's mind befuddled; leaving you feeling as if you are blissfully drowning. If you just dive under the violent waves, breathe one deep breath, and let the water fill your lungs...the pain will be over. That's what my mom says about drowning--that if we have to die that way, that's the way we should handle it. Quick. As painless as possible. Let the burning in your lungs cool with the salty water; force the darkness out with the warmth of welcoming light.

I'd be the fighter. I'd be the one that would pound at the water with tiny, ineffectual fists. I'd kick, grit my teeth, fight until the burning in my lungs was so great that I had no choice but to finally open my mouth and let the water wash in. I'm Stubborn. I need control. I need to feel that if I try hard enough, I can make something change. Fight harder. Just a little bit harder...and everything will be okay. But that's not how it happens, is it?

Sometimes I feel that I'm drowning, and that God sees me. I fight against Him, against His plan, against whatever He is forcing me into. I want the control. I don't want the pain. I hate the burning in my lungs--the temporary discomfort and need for air. Fear, in that moment, is greater than that image of Him watching over me...arms that will outstretch in the second that I need them most. Instead, I'll fight and strive to stay afloat. Foolishly, I don't even realize I'm wearing myself out, forcing myself deeper into the water. Because try as I might, I cannot save myself.

Wet, weary, my entire body aching and spent, I'll find myself in His arms. I know I will, eventually, because He is faithful. I know His promises ring true. Despite me...despite my stubborn pride...despite all the ways in which I fail, He still remains. There is nothing that I can do, will do, or have done that will ever keep Him from saving me from drowning. Which is good. Because I am terrified of drowning.


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