I must indulge the fact that the ebb and flow of life is more fluid than I like to believe.
I move with that current in subtle anticipation of what You will accomplish,
betting on the fact that Your dreams really are more vivid than mine.
Relax and contract and rise above,
these waves that toss me and cradle me in all the different phases of life and make it life.
Why can't the undertow prescript its movement to coincide with everyone's tide?
I mourn the loss of everything comfortable and embrace all that is before me.
I am all these things, capable and strong and beautiful,
turning to face the crests and run against them;
swimming into the unknown with bravery and surrender;
standing up to all my giants, looking them in the eye, and overcoming them.
The salt stings my wounds and I look up to the blinding sunlight,
Where I am rescued and made whole in Your grip--
Standing only on the promise that You are everything.
Waiting for the water to change and moving with and through the current,
burning through the embers of each white wave and
dancing, running through the ebb and flow of this story.