Adrift

Adrift in a sea of indecision, indirection, nothing but waves abound.

No sight of land, no rescue ship, not a piece of driftwood found.

 

God, Lord. I float, feeling lost and alone.

Do I tread, swim in which direction to find my way home?

 

Days turn to weeks and weeks to months unending.

Still treading, still searching endless horizon unbending.

 

In answer: a storm, fierce and threatening, fighting only to drown?

Wave’s crash, thunder deafens, lightning blinds; fear & exhaustion weigh to drag me down.

 

In the distance espied a wooden raft, a life-preserver. Upon the familiar I swim to eagerly grasp and clutch,

Yet this expected, depended, trusted, relied help is an illusion, it disintegrates at my touch.

 

I want to cry, “God, are you there? God, do you care? God do you love me? God, do you hear me out here in this rage filled ocean adrift?”

But I only gasp air. I know you are there. Seek first your kingdom and righteousness as drifting seaweed of gratitude & praise provide sweet momentary lift.

 

Past has taught me how long I enter, remain, and depart determined by my soul’s attitude.

Difficult to be thankful, grateful, praising, when I think I might not make it through and doubts incessant elude.

 

Trials and tests: enter, amid, or departing; myriad & malleable. I am ensconced now in a fight for life.

I am swimming harder to go nowhere, to breathe, gasp for air, the water sharper than blade of knife.

 

Bruised, crushed, battered, beaten; cut by wind and waves I bleed; sweat and tears I leak.

Exhaustion, heartbreak, fear, anger, death so heavy pulling me down to depths I don’t seek.

 

The predator circles, hungry, biting and nipping, seeking whom they may devour,

But my help comes from the Lord, my fortress, my hope, my mighty strong tower.

 

My soul knows you intimate. I know your presence when you’re the farthest, I know you’re closest when I feel you the least

So I lift arms of praise to tread the next swell, directionless, except heavenward, and pray believing, I am not soon shark feast.

 

The storm dwindles, dawn breaks beautiful, and clouds lighten and separate. The sea rolls and swells in its wake.

I am still cast adrift, treading, kicking, swimming, and seeking you and my way out. I know what is at stake.

 

The storm is calm, I am saved, but still adrift, still wondering from when and where will I be found.

It’s difficult sometimes to understand, but your ways aren’t our ways, your ways not always underfoot, solid ground.

 

Sometimes we have to drift in unfriendly even hostile seas, enduring storms of life in forms seemingly un-ended,

It is easier to go in, harder to go through, and again out, I have learned, if my knees remain un-bended.