I feel like I am trying to swim on just the surface of the water. Below me is the cool water that I am afraid to put my feet into. I want to say up here on the surface where the water is just a little bit warmer and familiar
. Ahead of me are obstacle and demands . . . I must keep myself afloat, I must help those around me float. I am fearful that if I put my feet down and start to "feel" that I will loose control and sink. But this does not allow me to support my children. I can only help them so much when I am trying to keep myself on top of the water. Physically I am there but emotionally I am not strong. How I wish I had the faith that if I put my feet down I would touch the bottom and could then be the support and strength those around me need. But I am fearful, fearful that the bottom will be too far away, that the cold will envelope me, that I will let go of any form of stability. So I float, emotionally unavailable to my children and confused and anxious about the next spot in the lake I should swim to.
But every evening I am thrown a life preserver. He is strong and secure. He puts his arms around me and holds me up. He gives me lots of kisses and murmers of "I love you." Now floting I can breath, my body finally relaxes, I smile, I rest, I get strenghtened for the next day. Through out the day my thoughts wander to him and another smile excapes my lips. How grateful and blessed I am.
As I float I know that my Savior is there, that He is trying to talk to me but the waves are loud and I keep loosing sight of where I am going. But I don't give up. I ask for help and He sends it, I ask for directions and receive them, I ask to have my heart calmed and the waves subside for a little while. And then He throws me my life preserver in the form of a phone call, a text, a memory, or the float himself. I know it is a gift from God and I thank Him for it everyday.
. Ahead of me are obstacle and demands . . . I must keep myself afloat, I must help those around me float. I am fearful that if I put my feet down and start to "feel" that I will loose control and sink. But this does not allow me to support my children. I can only help them so much when I am trying to keep myself on top of the water. Physically I am there but emotionally I am not strong. How I wish I had the faith that if I put my feet down I would touch the bottom and could then be the support and strength those around me need. But I am fearful, fearful that the bottom will be too far away, that the cold will envelope me, that I will let go of any form of stability. So I float, emotionally unavailable to my children and confused and anxious about the next spot in the lake I should swim to.
But every evening I am thrown a life preserver. He is strong and secure. He puts his arms around me and holds me up. He gives me lots of kisses and murmers of "I love you." Now floting I can breath, my body finally relaxes, I smile, I rest, I get strenghtened for the next day. Through out the day my thoughts wander to him and another smile excapes my lips. How grateful and blessed I am.
As I float I know that my Savior is there, that He is trying to talk to me but the waves are loud and I keep loosing sight of where I am going. But I don't give up. I ask for help and He sends it, I ask for directions and receive them, I ask to have my heart calmed and the waves subside for a little while. And then He throws me my life preserver in the form of a phone call, a text, a memory, or the float himself. I know it is a gift from God and I thank Him for it everyday.
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