Sea Legs

There is a moment when the world stands still and mercies are made new, whether sleep was pleasant or troublesome, whether worries left sweat on the pillow or the Lord graciously lifted them from my shoulders. Placing warm feet on a cold floor, I offered praise to the Lord with my first cognitive thought. I inhaled a moment of peace for the world had not found me.

Mounting my chariot, I searched the radio for news of much needed rain, or a glimpse of the traffic in my path, yet I was greeted with the ugliness that existed just outside my windows. The world was lurking in the darkness, waiting for me to step into the ring once more. Turning down the noise, I regained a sense of calm, and prayed peace would extend beyond the confines of a warm truck cab, and well beyond my vision.

Finding a table where the food was warm, and the tea was sweet, as were the smiles of who prepared it, I pulled out a chair for the Lord to join me. We spoke of the battles of the days previous and how He carried me through each and every one. Thank You, Jesus. We glanced through the open door at the day ahead, binding my sword and shield, mending my sails, and reinforcing the hull for the storm that undoubtedly awaited. As my timepiece signaled the games beginning, we climbed into the vessel, my hands at the ready, Jesus firmly grasping the steering oar.

The seas were calm, allowing time to talk about everything and nothing until the waters began to churn beneath me. Holding firm, we cut through the maelstrom, but as I lost sight of my Captain, and a great wave slammed me overboard. I struggled to the surface with barely the strength to stay afloat. The Lord was still at the helm, but it seemed beyond my reach. Fighting the current, I reached the boat rail, the Lord helping me aboard. As I rested for just a moment, He took full control.

But the sea was angry and not satisfied. Regaining my sea legs, I shouted defiantly at the wind, and it answered by dragging me back to the depths. Fighting for breath, I took hold of a lifeline tethered to the ship. The Lord took my hand and saved me. Wiping the salt water from my eyes, He said,

It is best if we face the storm together.

And suddenly, the seas were calm.

Pulling into safe harbor, He carried my weary body to a quiet place. He laid me softly on a pillow, tucked in the covers, and brushed the hair from my face, gently whispering, “Love you. Sweet dreams.”

Drifting off to sleep, He held my heart until mercies were made new once more.

 

If these words have been a blessing, pass them along to another who needs to hear.
Reach out to me at John@LiftedKeys.com and tell me your story. I would love to know where and in what way God has guided His words through my pen.

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