I could see it in her eyes, large, brown and wide with fear.
Chai Latte in hand, blueberry muffin devoured, I was enjoying a relaxing morning on the breezy rooftop in T-Town (Tulsa). The summer heat was diffused by the early morning and the skyscraper shade.
The Preacher was holed up in the room studying for tomorrow and looking over his wedding words for tonight. He always says, “It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s a-coming.”
As par for my world, I can’t stand to be inside if I have a choice, So poolside it is— my closest avenue to nature,
Even if the flowers and trees are in pots
And the water is a fake turquoise color
And chlorinated…
And I have nothing but jeans to wear.
I heard her before I ever saw her sweet face.
Dark skin, hair in pigtails, and a bright pink suit. She chattered loudly non-stop as she walked with her mother and her small blonde friend.
“It looks scary Mommy.”
Within minutes, Blondie and Mom waded right in, splashing and laughing.
Soon, soothing, cajoling tones from Mom caught my attention.
I glanced up to see what the problem was.
Cutie in pink was sitting on the second step in the water, frozen in fear. No amount of encouragement was going to move her.
But after a while, seeing the fun she was missing, she eased herself on down but clung to the side with a death grip. As she became more comfortable, she began walking her hands down the side until she reached the halfway point, slowly venturing into deeper water and back again into the shallow.
Yet, though she was tall enough to touch the bottom, she stubbornly refused to let go of the side.
Letting fear render her a bystander instead of a participant.
After watching a few more minutes, I returned to my writing, giving up that she was ever going to join the fun.
Then I heard it,
The clear, beautiful sounds of little girl glee.
She let go, and was timidly walking toward the center of the shallow where Blondie and Mom smiled and encouraged her.
The pure joy on her face radiated as she splashed her hands and jumped up and down.
How often do I miss out on the same pure joy because I refuse to let go.
Cutie didn’t want to trust her mom. She didn’t understand what she was missing.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…”echoes in my head.
The struggle to understand is the hard part. We assume it is our right and within our capability to know.
I realize I don’t understand much of what happens in this realm. Innocents butchered and starving while tyrants rule.
I say I trust God but when the path gets rocky and my life looks different than I had pictured, it’s easy for me to look inward and shrink inside instead of wading upstream into deep waters with my hand in his. I try to control my world and hang on to what I know with the same death grip I saw as humorous in Cutie.
I know I don’t have to understand…
Please Lord, just give me the strength to swim.
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Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust the Lord with all your heart and lean not on our own understanding; in all your ways submit him, and he will make your paths straight.”
-What are you hanging on to that you need to give to God?
-Let go and trust him to help you swim.