swim

 I was driving home today, a drive I have fallen in love with merely due to the fact that it is fall - my favorite time of year. This road has become a beautiful isle laced in trees that have lived only to die, for they truly leave this earth more glorious than they came.In the days of their leaving they look more brilliant than they did on any of their green days in the spring's rain or summer's heat. My drive passes a lake, Kellogg lake that is. 

     So today in the midst of some discouragement I stopped to breathe, to ponder, to talk to God, to just sit. I sat upon the bank of the pond that had small ripples forming all across it's face caused from the birds that were leisurely laying around. But as I sat on the grass stoop, goose bumps growing on my legs and pale sincerity crossing my face, I knew I had nothing to fear. Although if you would have handed me a shovel I surely would have dug my hole.

   The reason for my discouragement: I went swimming today, to work out you know? As I swam laps having elderly woman to my right and toddler boys to my left, I felt like my chest was going to explode

 when I would go under for a length of time, I felt out of my element when I would hit the wall breathing in gasps because the front stroke is apparently the hardest workout of them all. Never in my life have I cared that my swimming was not up to par, only caring enough that I knew enough to keep me afloat. Unfortunately, you need to do more than keep yourself afloat when you are swimming in the bay. When you are in crashing waves off the 

coast of South Africa that are defined by their frigid waters and their great white sharks. Unfortunately you need to be able to do more than just survive if you plan on surviving where

 the best in the world go to surf.

    Am I good swimmer? not really. Can I surf? nope. Do I have any clue what I am getting myself into by leaving my comfort zone of the mid-west, which is 1,400 miles away from any ocean? not one bit. 

     But as I sat upon the shore of Kellogg Lake I had a familiarity that I always seem to take on when looking out over the surface of

 water. Whether the water is black and cold and filled with the essence of a being darker than sin's soul, or whether its crystal clear blue, a transparent window to the culture of the depths of the sea. It does not matter, because I long for the water, not necessarily to be in it but to be near it, it gives me inspiration, it gives me life, it scares me while at the same time comforts me. 

      I had to withhold myself from not leaping off Kellogg's shore into the chilly water to attempt to swim to the other side just to prove to myself that I could do it, that I could swim a length worthy of a fish, that I could swim murky waters that held unknown creatures                    

and obstacles. But I did not, I stayed and I waited for I know those days will come when I do not have the luxury to sit on the shore but I will be forced to dive into the waters and face my fears eye to eye. 

I just pray that when that day comes, when my fears are at my door greeting me, that I will say hello and welcome them in and Jesus will be my guest to see them through the night. I pray I have that courage, for if I do not I fear I will stand up, turn around and walk back to where the shore meets the horizon of the land. For in the deepest part of my soul, I honestly would rather die in the midst of my fears than betray my potential in an act of archaic anxiety.