Waiting For My Boat To Come In…


FishingBoats
A feeling of stuckness prevails at the moment.

Something I did not want to happen upon my return to America.

And yet here I am again.  Mired in the sludge of my life.

I am waiting for my boat to come in

How will I recognise it amongst so many?

How do I know it hasn’t already come in and I’m just missing it?

How come taking things one day at a time feels so slow and yet when I look back over a year I am amazed at how far I’ve come!?

I try to live in the moment and by so doing discover God’s timing to be terminally slow.

He is not governed by time.  I, on the other hand, am.

It makes me want to growl with impatience, doesn’t it you?

I want to skip all the sticky mud and be at my destination.

I want to have arrived, miraculously, without any of the testing.

I forget that the ruts of my life make the mountain-tops heady.

I forget that the knocks and the ordinariness, the challenges and falls add to the me I became.

I breathe deeply during meditation and see my boat.

It is small, easy to miss and nothing I couldn’t handle alone.

Painted a brilliant yellow, stranded on the beach of my mind.

How could I have overlooked the Fisherman’s footprints in the sand at the bow?

I remind myself again that I am exactly where God wants me to be right now.

I may be short on time but He has eternity and that little yellow boat is very pretty don’t you think?

 

 

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