Swimming, struggling to keep above the waves crashing heavily into my body. I'm so weak, so tired of fighting the inevitable. My head starts to go under and I kick my burning legs faster, begging them to hold me up. My lungs fill with the salty water and I cough and sputter. Still, the water rises. I try squeezing my eyes shut, but the tears still pour out. I'm drowning in sorrow; I'm being buried in a watery grave made of my own tears. As hard as I try, they just won't stop. A huge wave pulls me under. I see the light fading as I am dragged to the bottom. The last thing I remember is Jesus wrapping his arms around me, swimming towards the light miles above my salty sorrows and promising to never let me reach the bottom again.
Drowning in Sorrow
April 5, 2013