For years I’ve struggled for breath. 
For years the water has risen and risen. 
Each day feels like my last desperate gasp to keep my head above water. 
The worries and the cares of this world threatening to end me. 
Each morning I pierce the surface and take a deep breath. 
The sky is dark and menacing. 
The sea is green and gray.
The first wave comes and pushes me back under.
And the thought occurs to me that this could be the end.
I kick my legs and sweep my arms pushing with all my strength back to the surface.
My struggle drowns out the still quiet voice calling to me from the unfathomable depths of the ocean.
“Be still. Trust. Have Faith.”
Instead I
Pierce. Breathe. Submerge. Repeat.

But what if I have this backwards.
What if the worries and the cares of this world are the air I’m so desperate for?
And the water isn’t death but rather life.
The sea is the spirit.
The flooding presence of God.
And it is inviting me to die.
To die to this world.
To die to my flurry of activity.
To die so that I might live.
Live in His presence.
Live in His depths.
Submerge. Dive Deep. Breathe. Repeat.

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Tall and quiet programmer from Memphis, that is in love with a sweet girl from Orlando.

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