Dear Yesterday,
I remember a time, when I was far, far away. Not necessarily from my home, but meaning far away from me. How did I get so far away? And how did I get home?
Someone came along and swept me off of my feet. I suppose I was looking to get swept a way, but I surely now cannot think of why... I certainly didn't know that the wave sweeping me away could hold me under and convince me that drowning was good.
Actually, I didn't get swept away. I ran into the waves, hoping that a current would catch my feet and carry me away. After the initial feeling of losing my breath passed, I learned to surface above the waves and pull large gulps of air into my life, just to allow myself to go under again.
Do I try to forget this past? Yes, in a way. For the fear of going back there again because I enjoyed it so much. For the fear of going back there again because I missed so much of my real life and those I truly love, never ever to regain that time back. But, in a way, I do remind myself - I don't want to forget. I have to remember what it felt like to so desperately need those gulps of air, and not being allowed to get them. Not only drowning in a life that wasn't really what I wanted, but pulling those around me down into the crashing waves as they tried to rescue me.
I can't hold on any longer. It is dark and cold, and the roar of the waves is unbearable. I can feel the suffocation now. And then a hand reaches down, and takes hold. A hand offered by someone who walks on water. A hand from the one who created the waves, and commands them to be still. A voice says "my Grace is enough". And now I know how I got home.
Thank you Jesus for rescuing me, for yesterday was today, and I'm in your hands.
