Monday, June 27, 2011


Growing up in Daytona Beach I swam in the ocean - a lot. In fact, I actually swam before walking and had no fear of the ocean. My mother loves to tell the story of how when I was only around 2 years old I walked into the waves one day and just kept on walking... even when completely submerged. Until, that is, she was sure I would drown and pulled me to the surface. [I use to love that story as a teen. It was my Splash moment. I just knew if she hadn't intervened, I'd have been living in a mermaid city the rest of my life...]

I loved it!
That is, until I watched the movie Jaws.

After that, ever time I swam in deep water that I couldn't see the bottom clearly, it felt as though something was going to come up and bite me. I could just feel the seething activity of the animals below. Odds were, one of them was about to get me...  As I grew up, I knew that wasn't going to happen - most likely - and got over the fear. But a part of me still imagines all the teeming life below and curls my toes protectively.

That's how I'm beginning to feel about Ireland. But in a good way.

I've conquered my fear and jumped in the ocean, and for a while I've just enjoyed floating in it. Yet now, I'm beginning to sense all the activity below. I can't see it and haven't touched it, but I can feel it...

God's moving and working in the depths I can't see, and I have to trust Him - I have to have faith - that He's working it for my good.
Actually, I'm getting real excited - and can't wait to be bit!

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