I Can't Swim!!

I was that girl.

You probably remember--the one who was always afraid to jump in the deep end of the swimming pool.  The one who cried when the instructor told her she was next in line to step off the diving board.  That was me.

Others had no fear and threw themselves with abandon into the cool, blue water.  I wanted to be that free; to be fearless, but I wasn't.  I'm still not.

The last few weeks have taken me back to my younger self and a gigantic swimming pool just waiting to swallow me up.

I was content.  I was emotionally stable and feeling very much alive and full in the midst of pandemic inflicted rules of isolation and restrictions.  Life for me was slow and simple and serene.  There was this spacious abundance that I was basking in.  And then our government leaders starting telling us we could start jumping in the deep end!  Never mind that for 2 1/2 months we were virtually forbidden to even dip our toes in the shallow end!  Forget the fact that you could not escape from the constant drone of  high pitched fear from any news feed available that if we jumped we were either going to drown or cause someone else to! That was sooooooo last week!!  Come on, don your bathing suit and jump in people!!!  It's time!!!!!!

Some individuals are exhilarated by the rush of the water over their heads.  It's what they've been pining after for months.  They've had their towel and trunks packed in the front seat along with the hand sanitizer, mask and gloves.  They're all in!!!!!

But I feel like that little girl again and when I jumped, I found myself way over my head, flailing and gasping for air--because I CAN'T SWIM!!!!!!!!!

So while many of you have been having the time of your lives(and I'm happy for you:you're a blessed group who live with little to no fear), I've been crying and praying my heart out trying to figure out some way to stay afloat.  Until that morning a few days ago when I could visualize Jesus jumping in to rescue me and carrying me to safety.  It was beautiful.

I'm all dried off now and my swim suit back in the drawer for a later date.  In the meantime I'm living in the book of Psalms.  It's where I feel most at home.  A good portion of the Psalms is not for the brave and strong.  It speaks to the weak, the fearful; the one whose emotions feel wildly out of control and yet still clings to the good Shepherd.  It's filled with countless records of a man named David who is said to be "a man after God's own heart".  And yet, he has a voice which cries out in fear and despair and trust and hope.  He laments and he celebrates.  He feels lost and alone and sheltered and held.  He protests in anguish and shouts in joy.  He makes horrible choices and follows the right path.  He complains bitterly and sings gratitude. I need to read of his own wild extremes to help make sense of my own.  I need to hear of the lovingkindness of His God, who is my God too, and know that I am safe and held and loved whether I can swim or not.