I don’t remember the words.
I just remember sitting there, a vision of Christ’s arms cradling me, and thinking, “I will look back on this as the moment I fell back in love with Jesus.”
I knew things were still messy, and still might be for some time. But I was reminded that I didn’t have to clean up the mess myself. That He was here all along, waiting for me to give Him my hand, place it in His, let Him guide me through it, navigate through these choppy waters. Like a husband and wife who go to bed knowing there is still so much to work through, but go to bed committed, not angry, to the one they promised themselves to. Relief washed over me. I remembered we’re in this together. I’m not alone. And I cannot get myself up and out of the thrashing waves, but He can.
Last Sunday, at little and loved Peaks Island Baptist Church, Fay Christy stood and sang, strummed her guitar and spoke of grieving for her husband. I don’t remember the exact words, but I know she sang of waves and Jesus’ presence being our rescue, Him carrying us to shore. As tears escaped my eyes, I rested in that truth: that I am not left to tread water alone; He is here, He will carry me. How often I need to be reminded of that. But He is ever faithful to bring that truth to mind, over and over again, even when I willingly choose to close my eyes and turn away, shake my head like a little kid and say, “Unh-unh. Nope. Not true,” even when I don’t realize that’s what I’m doing.
And that truth, the truth of which He reminded me and used to make me fall in love with Him all over again, He used to get me writing again. It had been so long. And I let the mess keep me away, let it whisper lies that I couldn’t write, speak, do anything of value until I got it all together, cleaned up the mess. I believed the lies, once again. I stayed away. And then He spoke louder. Over the waves and the rain and the lies and He spoke the truth, and finally, I heard. Finally, I let my fingers clack the keys again. And it feels like home. The fingers clacking keys and the resting against His arms, head against His chest and hearing His heartbeat and staying so close to hear His voice and know His will and walk hand in hand with Him, Him leading, guiding, teaching, loving, always loving—I’m home again.