Floating

Yesterday afternoon, my youngest daughter (age 6) and I had the pool all to ourselves. The boys were fencing, my oldest daughter was working out at the "Y", and my middle daughter had ballet class.

We were alone. The air was warm. The water was cool and we both dove in with joyful abandon. (Well, we didn't dive exactly. Instead, we climbed over the pool ladder and carefully eased our over-heated bodies into the 60 degree water. Pool shock sucks, I try to avoid it all cost!)

It's always blissfully strange to be in the pool without all of my progeny. Absent the rough housing and splashing that comes with five children, the pool is so still and calm. It seemed an opportune moment to teach my youngest daughter the fine art of floating.

There, in the heat stilled afternoon, I held my beautiful child face up on the water. I explained to her that she didn't need my hand under her back. I calmly explained that if I let her go, she could trust the water to hold her up. She wouldn't sink like a stone. She wouldn't drown.....

But you know what? When you are six and you've never felt what it is to have the water bouy you up, it's a scary thing to let your parent remove their hand.

She nearly panicked when I suggested I let my hand fall. She was so afraid.

Calmly and purposefully I stared into her hazel eyes. I let all of my love for her pour into her sweet face, and somehow, in that moment she found the courage to trust.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I let my hand fall away.

I wish you all could have seen her face. I wish you could have seen her in that moment of incredulity, that moment of sheer bliss as she stared skyward and lost herself floating in the still blue of water and sky....

This was probably one of the most sacred moments I've experienced in a long time. I say sacred because it was a moment where love and trust transported my daughter and me to some lovely and wholly intangible place. I say sacred because this is precisely what my relationship with God has been like.

You see, for a long time now, God has been whispering into my ear that I can let go. I can let go of my bitterness, my fear of the unknown, my need to look better than I am. He's telling me that I won't sink. He's assuring me that if I release my fear and my insecurity I won't drown. He's gazing into my soul with eyes so filled with love, that my only response is to trust.

Just as my daughter trusted me, I choose to trust God. I trust that as God removes his hand, his living water will bouy me up. I trust that God will not let me sink, or be overcome by the troubles of this life. I trust His love.

And together we float, God and I. Losing ourselves in that crazy intersection where soul meets body.

We float.....and I cannot help but wonder in moments like this why I was ever so afraid or doubted in the first place.