Paddling and kicking, I keep my head above the waves, water splashing and stinging my eyes. I inhale another raspy breath as I see a swell headed my way. Fighting against the current threatening to pull me under, I wonder how long I can keep treading water.
Seconds from giving up, I see it. Through the misty water sprays, I see His hand. I raise mine unsteadily toward His and feel myself lifted. Saved. Secure. My breathing slows as my body rests upon the side of the boat rocking in the sea, and I finally look up, my eyes meeting His.
Compassion shines brightly, calling me closer to Him. Instinctively, I lean toward Him and whisper, “Thank You.” That’s when His smile broke out freely, but His head shook from side to side.
“Where is your faith, daughter?”
That’s when truth dawned — I never had to be in that water alone, working so hard to stay alive in the stormy sea. He was with me. Always with me. Faith to live dependent on Him, trusting in Him to lead me and equip me, showing me what is mine to do.