I am all alone. The pool beckons, crystal clear and bright in the sunlight. I slip gratefully down the stairs in the shallow end. One step. Two steps. Three. Four. Now it's up to my waist, warm as silk. I move towards the deep end, going slowly down the incline.
Now the water is a little cloudy around me. I go deeper. The cloudiness thickens into fog. "Maybe if I dive down, I can find the clear water," I think. I dive. I can't see beyond my outstretched fingertips. Suddenly the bottom of the pool is before me, and I'm boxed in by the milky thickness.
Try as I might, I just ... can't ... find .. the clarity.
Do you think that, perhaps, that dream was precipitated by this?
... or this?
Those are dirty dishes. And clean laundry. Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by the encroaching piles, the constantly threatening disorder of my life. No matter how on top of things I am, there is ALWAYS something that sneaks up and bites me because I wasn't paying attention to it.
It is a constant, deep slide from clarity into fogginess. And it will overwhelm me if I let it. What's my survival method? Get out of the 'pool'. Get perspective. Take a step back every day (several times a day), to feed my soul. Just open my Bible, and let those healing words wash over me.