It's like coming up for air on a foggy, freezing morning in the middle of the ocean after being capsized. Once alone and confused, feeling as though I could drown in a sea of unknowns, my body being swayed one way and then back again until I’m pulled to the surface by a sudden current. I go still and allow my body to rise toward Him. I hear my voice. No longer muffled and distant, I feel my being enter my body again and I look up to see the Sun greet me, warm on my face. I am His. The icy spray of societal doubt and self-questioning slips back, deeper into the water as I let myself float along the surface. I am saved by a constant urge to stay above the tide and float along in His grace. His assured warmth guides me, showing me the way back, allowing my shallow breaths to become steadier and I feel as though I’ve almost reached land again.

I drift blissfully with the incoming tides, eyes wide looking up at Him in wait before closing and allowing Him to bring me slowly back to the shore as I glide smoothly onto the wet sand. My body now covered in cuts and scrapes from the ocean tossing me against the reef below the sea, as though I were just a pebble in a quarry of boulders. I lay exposed and naked for Him to bring life back to my body. Slowly, I gain strength in my legs, working its way up to my stomach, arms, chest and then mind. My eyes open and I see Him standing over me. Like a newborn fawn I cautiously rise—just to my knees, then raise my arms in offering to the Sun. I am Yours.