Rip Tide

I guess sometimes Faith and God
are like getting caught in a rip tide.

You wade into the cool ocean waves
refreshing yourself against the harsh sunlight.
It's a yellow flag day,
and you know you need to be careful,
but swimming farther out just looks so much fun.

So you do.

And between your explosions of laughter you realize
that you can't move.
In fact you need to run, as if on a tredmill,
just to stay in place at all.

You're in too deep.

So you panic.

You can see what you want:
The shore, with the hot sand and sunbathing beauties,

and you don't really remember how you got here,

but you wish you hadn't.

You wish that for once you hadn't chosen reckless fun

over staying happily safe where you were.

So you figth your way back;
but it doesn't seem to work.

So you pray.

And miraculously a wave comes and gives you one giant push,

the push you need to swim your way back to shore,

and out of harm's way.

You look back out

into the vastness of the sea

and wonder what splendor you saw

in putting your life at risk,

and with a smile you make your way back

up onto the sand...

Home.