Brent was a pitcher in his growing up years. I was a swimmer. He is infinitely more patient than me. He can see life as one step better day by day and enjoy the small victories. It’s one “pitch” at a time, one batter at a time, one inning at a time, one game at a time. Me, I’m always racing to the cross and the end of the lane, forgetting to pace myself, and holding my breath as I finish strong through the solid of the lane line. I get out of the pool heaving and spent.
This time, the things I have to share with you will not work in race form. Patience will have to outweigh my passion. As I write and listen to the Christy Knockles Pandora station, I’ll stop and raise my hands or sing loud and listen to these powerful words that mean more to me now than ever. This post may take hours, days, weeks, or months to come out fully. I will thank Brent now for locking me in the bedroom and playing with two sweet children to allow me to get part of it out today. I hear the loud boy hollering now and bowls of cereal clanking.
I’m sure you’ve heard the analogy of life having seasons. I’m learning it’s literal. This summer has been an incredible season of change… in my heart. Words can not express exactly what has happened. I can say that it is like my eyes have been opened to see life so much more clearly. It’s like colors are more vibrant. Scenes move by slowly. Moments mean so much more. It’s like caluses have been sanded away and I can feel touch, sound, color, emotion much more fully. I think I’ve gotten a taste of the life Jesus promised when He said, “Life to the full.”
I’m not sure where this journey of Dive will take us. But, I’m inviting you to come with me as I try to express it to you. Honestly, I’m on my face praying for me and you. I praying you experience Him through this… wherever you are on your journey. Some of you are my mentors and some of you think this whole God thing is a hoax but you love me and decide to see what I have to say. So I’m trusting Him to move and I’m really excited. Does that surprise you that I’m excited? At least we’re not in person so I can’t get on your nerves. :)
Sitting on the beach earlier this summer, I was reading a book that has absolutely rocked my world. One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. A woman I love and respect deeply sent it to me. She had no idea that her twenty dollar act of obedience was going to change the direction of me and my family’s life. If you’re heart is pricked to some act of kindness DO IT. Who knows what a difference it will make! And, I triple dog dare you to read that book if you’re looking for something to read.
Back to my point. My stomach tightened and my eyes welled with tears. I felt the lump tighten in my chest when I read this.
"Agoraphobia, 'anxiety about being in places or situations from which escape might be difficult.' It’s my skin that is difficult to escape. I snap an elastic band around my wrist. For months, I swallow down the calm with the pills. I try to pray. Fear is like a piano wire cutting round the wrists, life shackled, cutting deep, and the hand spasms, fists of control. Fear keeps life small. The music dies and the joy drains. I’ve lived the strangle."
As I sat with the sun beating on me and the waves crashing, my mind raced. I remembered when I loved being far out in the water. The waves consuming me. It felt so free. Then my mind rushed back to my childhood. That quote made me think about how someone was always “leaving” when things were hard. My child mind struck with fear. Where will I go? Who will take care of me? No one ever stays. I had been brainwashed that escaping was the answer.
Is that why I would spend childhood nights sleeping on the bathroom floor after I threw up? Hurrying back to my bed before anyone woke and knew. It was so normal to me. Is that why I was woken from my dorm room bed years later with anxiety gripping me. My dear childhood friend watching as I tore my clothes off and heaved in the floor. She helped clean up the puke. Then, in a college apartment being taken over by it again, calling my boyfriend to help the heaving and sweating stop. What could calm me? He prayed over me. But, what to pray for this girl who didn’t understand.
I loved my God in those days. I have loved Him all of my days. With Him is where I experienced my first Peace. We lived out in the country. Flat land, sand, thin grass, barbed wire fences, and horses all around. A long dirt road led to a ranch house surrounded by trees. A house of tension set in the beauty of full sunrise and sunset skies. His Hope surrounded that house.
One Saturday, the tension was thick. I feel it even now. The weight I would tell my dad about was on my chest so heavy. They were arguing about me. So, I ran. I ran far. My legs burned as I sprinted down the lane into a farmer’s field. The hot August sun burned against my 15 year old skin. I collapsed in the shade of the trees lining the crop.
I cried out loud and begged God for peace. What does a 15 year old know of the word peace? What does peace mean to an egocentric teenager. Why would a child need to beg for peace? Then, the cool breeze blew. I shuttered. The tears stopped. I was filled with the Truest Peace. I knew in that moment that I was not alone. That He was with me and that He always would be. He would be with me through the tornado that raged in my house.
It was years later in the early morning hours in a home in St. Charles that my Peace turned into my Protector. I was a summer missionary with a family who lives radically for their Savior. After a run up steep hills in the hot summer, He brought reality to me. I recalled faint memories of mud, a car, a mean man, my mom, my brother, and crying. I remembered running out a door and glass flying. I remembered being scared to death of some man. I know that that man was in prison after it all.
It hits me. Why am I alive? Why did You save me? My 19 year old mind realized that I could have died. In Love, I resolve in that moment, that my life is His. That His glory is the purpose for all my days.
There at the immense ocean, I realize I’m scared to go out in the water. Yes, that water that I love. What am I scared of? I’m scared of being out of control. What if I’m no longer strong enough to swim against the waves? What about jellyfish? How small is my God right now?
I tell Him that I’m scared and He speaks in my heart. “Do it anyway. If something goes wrong, you’ll learn something valuable. I will prove trustworthy.”
That did it. I got up and walked determined to that ocean. Deeper and deeper until I had to dive. I swam out. Further and further. Letting go of control with each stroke. Everything changed.
“Oh, the joys of those who trust in the Lord,” Psalm 40:4
“May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15: 13.
Baby Heath walks off the edge into the pool with no pause, no hinderance, complete trust when his daddy is right there with arms waiting to catch him. That is the challenge.
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