My only memory of even trying to swim was at six years of age, when my dad decided to teach me to swim. So we packed our bags with a full change of clothes and the entire family went off to spend an evening at the seaside and my dad started off with the instructions. Growing up in a middle eastern desert that formed the coast of the Arabian Sea, beaches were where we spent most of our evenings more than parks or malls; the raging beauty of the waves and the salt kissed air constituting a significant part of my childhood.
Now the instructions were simple- ” Walk into the water till your feet are off the ground, keep your head above the waves, and move. Most importantly, do not panic when the water hits your face ‘cos always remember- I’m holding you.” (Now you swimming experts might have varied opinions- you can write to my dad later.)
So I confidently went into the water with him holding me, looked around, saw the waves coming, forgot about the stronger hands beneath me and I freaked out. You can imagine the rest. That was the most salt water I’ve tasted in a long long time. And what was supposed to be a joyful lesson, turned out to be a rescue mission to save his eldest offspring from drowning. And that was also the only attempt on my father’s part to teach me this skill. Yeah that’s true, I can’t swim for peanuts.
Now more than a decade later , as the rain pours heavily outside my small house , the sound of heavy raindrops interspersed with deafening thunder, there’s another storm that’s raging inside of me- one that is almost overwhelming me, so much so that I can feel the water rushing into my nostrils, trying to drown me- the storm of doubts over an uncertain future, the storm that’s reminding me of all the impossibilities that lie ahead, the mountains that are too big to climb, the questions your parents ask that have no answers you can give that will make sense to them, the haunting thought that maybe its all a lost cause, that maybe the sun might never really shine again, that maybe…. I close my eyes, and all I see of myself is my hand stretching out for help above the waves to the Maker – for grace , for relief. Enough Lord! I have cried out. How long will this go on?
And this Voice comes through from a past memory, but this time from the Heavenly Father, “Keep your head above the water, daughter. Remember, I’m holding you.” Its not easy, but that’s all there is to do.
Maybe as you read this, you picture yourself there , being overwhelmed by the storms that rage at you and around you, maybe you’re crying out for help silently, maybe you’re hoping someone will see your outstretched arm before you completely drown, maybe the lack of light for your next step terrifies you, maybe you’re thinking of all the ‘what ifs’ and that keeps you awake at night. Maybe you’ve given up on hope altogether, maybe you’ve lost what little you thought you had. Maybe…
Well you know what your maybe is.
Friend, I write this tonight to remind you as much as I was reminded today- He holds you. If you look at His face and not at the waves crashing in on you, you will walk on this water that threatens to take you with it. Oh its not too difficult for Him. It definitely is not insignificant to Him. This storm will calm, we will see that rainbow over the clouds.
All we need is the grace to keep our head above the waters. Well guess what I discovered for the nth time? That with His promises there’s never a ‘maybe’.
Micah 7:7 New King James Version (NKJV)
Therefore I will look to the Lord;
I will wait for the God of my salvation;
My God will hear me.