I find myself gripping, clinging, barely holding on. My knuckles are white, and my palms blistered from gradually slipping farther and farther. My muscles are shaking, about to give out. Terrified, I cannot bring myself to look at what lies below, because above me only promises reminders of stormy uncertainty, dripping with remnants of pain and mistakes. Dark clouds churning, spitting bolts of lightning. Thunder so loud, it's deafening. Everything within me shivers at the thought of returning to the storm.
But below? Below is even more terrifying, mostly because I have never seen it before. The uncertainty holds me back. The unknown hinders me from giving up. Weakened, I finally force me gaze downward, and I look past my dangling feet. Blue waters. Blue waters as far as the eye can see! Sweet, refreshing breeze, gentle waves, and promise of renewal splash below me. Whispers of pure forgiveness and grace shuffle the waters, and His kind voice draws me in. “Come to me, you who are weary and I will give you rest."
Rest; the depth and security in His voice is irresistible. Sweet forgiveness, endless grace, and love longing to wash over me awaits.
Jump in, and taste and see that He. is. Good.
"Sometimes letting go is the hardest part."
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