I think I figured something out tonight.

I’ve been struggling a lot with balance lately, trying to figure out what to do, how to do it, how much of it to do, and when. Something is going on inside me, stirring the waters in my soul, and I can’t touch bottom or figure out which way to swim. It reminds me of the time I got swept out over the drop-off at ELWA beach, the current dragging me one way, the waves pounding me the other. I was at the mercy of a power greater than myself, not strong enough to swim out or even make progress in any direction. All I could do was dive under the waves as they came to avoid their crushing force.

Sometimes life is counter-intuitive. Sometimes you have to dive deep in order to stay afloat.

Anyway. I’ve also been struggling with physical balance issues this week, and my eyesight has been blurred. I’ve blamed exhaustion, I’ve told myself I must have a cold that is clogging my ears, but I think my body is simply manifesting what is going on inside of me right now. I feel off-kilter, and I can’t see where I’m going. What I described to a friend as “mental whiplash” has produced a very physical vertigo.

So what to do? Or is there anything to do?

When I got swept out over my head at the beach, my mom swam out to rescue me. I could see her coming, which made it easier to stay calm, even in my desperate circumstances. I have absolute faith that God will work things out in the end–I can hear him calling to me, assuring me–but right now I have too much saltwater in my eyes to see salvation coming, and I wonder if it is breeding a sort of panic in me? If I have bought into the fallacy that swimming as hard and as long as is humanly possible is the only reasonable thing to do when you’re swept out over your head? Like the little frog that fell into a bucket of milk and kept swimming and swimming, then woke up on a pat of butter?

Except no frog ever woke up on a pat of butter. And anyone with proper respect for the ocean knows that when you’re caught in the current, you’re supposed to stay calm and float to conserve your strength.

I don’t mean to paint a gloomy picture–a lot of the stuff that is going on with me is very, very good! I just don’t know what to do with it yet, what direction to turn, whether I should swim hard or take a deep, calming breath and float.

Or both.

But when do I swim? And for how long? And in what direction? Side-stroke or doggy paddle?

AARGH!

If you see me banging into doorways or tripping over chairs at church tomorrow, you’ll know why. 🙂 I’m being knocked around by the cosmic waves of an invisible sea.

But I’m pretty sure I’ll survive. 🙂