DEEP AND WIDE

“Look, Mommy! The clouds are swimming!” my 3-year-old self exclaimed, standing before the majesty of a Great Lake. 

For back then, there was no question that Heaven would come down and move through the waters of my life.

Summers came and went; I longed to wade out and touch those clouds, but fear told me that my heart was mistaken; it was only an angry sea. 

Still, something deep within whispered that I was meant to swim out and be carried in the arms of the waves.

My mother loved the water but chose to sit beside me at its edge while I gathered grains of courage like the sand that ran through my hands. 

Then one sweltering day, she jumped up, running toward the icy blue in a rare show of bravado. I heard a splash, a squeal as she was swallowed up in big, wet gulps that took her from my sight.

As I waited for her to reappear, I felt as if I may drown, too; but she soon emerged in the distance.

Her eyes were closed, lips pursed as if to kiss the very thing I feared most. Then treading water with little effort, she allowed herself to rise and fall at its whim, like a buoy held by an unseen anchor.

She swam near, her loving eyes tugging at me to come and share the joy of being held by the kind sea.

We stared into each other for what seemed like a lifetime, a distance between us, but I couldn’t move.

For years, I never could. 

Then one day, my mother exhaled a tired sigh and turned toward the setting sun, the clouds dancing before her. She reached with sure, strong strokes toward a shore just beyond my reach, and then she was gone from my sight.

I have often wondered if she felt the arms of my soul clinging to her as she moved toward the beauty.

I have often wondered if she knew that I would follow her if she was only brave enough to go first.

"Yes," I finally answered, and dove headfirst into the arms of the waiting clouds.

“He alone extends the heavens and walks upon the waves of the sea.”

Job 9:8 (JUB)