Soaking in the Ocean

You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

Hillsong United- Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)



I am soaking in this song.  I love the imagery it contains.  I understand the feeling conveyed as Christ calls us out upon the waters.  It’s so many things- wild amazement mixed with unhindered trust and supernatural hope.  I must relinquish all that I know about keeping my feet on solid ground.


It’s a moment of exceptional invitation.  I don’t know about you, but sometimes I need coaxing and unfortunately, some days I refuse.  But this time, I’ve taken his hand and followed his lead.  I am standing together, with Christ, in a place that defies natural limitations.  I don’t quite know how we got out here in the ocean anyway.  One moment he’s talking to me on the shore and the next moment we’re in the middle of something really deep.  It’s frighteningly glorious!


When I picture this I see the dark of night creeping in, I feel the splash of waves against my body and I’m lead only by the light in his eyes.  It takes everything inside me to deny the infringement of external elements and focus solely on Jesus.


But it is fun—he is wild joy and I am free.


I want to know him like that.  I want to trust without borders, directed only by the sound of his voice.  Everyday Jesus offers this opportunity.  Each decision either brings me to the water or keeps me on dry land.  I want him to take me deeper than I could wander.  My heart is desperate for him.  He shows me how to dance upon the water; it’s this place where many would say (and sometimes I’ve told myself) I don’t belong.


My faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior.


Jesus- Would you make me strong enough to run out onto the waters with you, no reservations, just free to be where you are calling me?



Father to the Fatherless

He is Father to the fatherless, defender of the widow– words from the pages of scripture (Psalm 68:5) also applicable to my life. Fatherless and widow, these words evoke heartbreaking emotion, a tragic embrace of nightmare and dream—my reality. 6 years ago I became a widow, less than 8 months later God redeemed my life and gave me a new name; I was once again a wife. The pathway between these 2 life events was, in essence, my own “yellow brick road”. However, instead of seeking a wizard, I went in search of the One who sheltered me, strengthened me and lead me along paths of life. As I found him I also grew in the knowledge of myself, shrugging off the shell of who I thought I was, embracing a purer version of who God says I am. I found freedom, I found hidden treasures, and I found a confidence to simply be me. Through this journey I heard the voice of Holy Spirit, my constant companion, in simplicity each day. Sometimes I tried to make it complicated, but he stepped in, saving me from myself, settling my spirit and renewing my heart to trust. As I walked through desert places, His presence was a geyser of crisp, clear water. I drank him down, longing to fill and satisfy the unquenchable thirst burning deep within.

One of the many truths revealed inside the deep recesses of my heart was this- in the midst of loss there is a void which must be filled, God has come to fill it with love and life; His brightly beaming dreams. He asked me to trust enough to dream again, living limitless in an otherwise severely limited world. It’s my choice- vulnerability in his presence, giving over this territory to the one who loves beyond comprehension. If I decline his embrace, darkness will invade choking out any hope of illumination; there are only 2 choices.

It’s not easy; it’s intentional. Dreaming through grief requires intense determination, unwavering concentration and every bit of available strength; it’s exhausting, but oh so worth it! As I embraced God’s dream, my GPS shifted to a new location, one far beyond the dimly lit city I currently inhabited. My compass pointed towards a land of infinite possibility and undeniable potential. Fresh life greeted me each morning; dew kissed droplets shimmered upon the carpet of my life, beckoning the steps that carried me forward into a beautiful destiny. Sorrows from the day before, now recycled, they were the essence of promise filled dreams awaiting a dreamer. The tender moisture washed my feet, removing debris, refreshing weariness and redefining direction. Bittersweet moments mingled, cascading across my taste buds; extreme contrasts heightened my senses causing an awareness of startling beauty, paralyzing pain, and their ability to coexist within my world. The brilliance of a heavenly glow gave light to the dreamer, bringing forth promises far beyond human frailty.

I can’t imagine life any other way now, and yet, I know the price of those moments—they cost everything. The past 4 weeks have plunged me back into a similar season, one defined by loss, days suffocated by grief; but still He beckons me to dream. This time I am tired, weary from intense battle, I weigh the price against the promise. I stand in surrendered silence knowing there is really only 1 choice; I desperately desire life, and it’s sweet surge of fresh fire coursing through my veins. I take a deep breath, knowing there is no turning back, and submit myself to the light.

Father to the fatherless, life without my dad crushes me. I don’t know how to dream through it, and so I wait, again. It’s the same way I’ve been waiting these 4 weeks, pouring out sorrow, yearning for refreshing rains to fall upon this parched ground. Fatigue intensifies my loss, threatening to cripple me, raising a deafening cry of death against the life inside me. In that moment my Father speaks strong authority in softness, “Enough”, death’s cry is silenced; drops of rain begin to fall. Slow and steady they dance across my heart proclaiming promises of deeper connection to the One who formed me, He who knows the silent cry inside. He is my Father, he will be the father to this fatherless child, and I will find him in still deeper ways. So I stand, arms lifted high, head bowed low, welcoming the One who fathers me. His love is near; he draws me into his embrace, I press my face against his chest, and listen to the sound of his heart as it beats out the rhythm of my name. His love awakens me, rekindling the fire inside, igniting the spark of one new dream, and for now, that is enough.