This week has kicked my butt, plain and simple. I’ve let stress, sadness, fear, anxiety, weakness and insecurity walk right over me. My problems have overwhelmed my progress; my self has prevailed over my soul. I’ve been caught in a swirl, and for the life of me I can’t fight my way out. Tomorrow is another day.

This morning I tried really hard to push the reset button. I tuned my iPod to an inspirational song and attempted to dial in to God, just for five minutes, just for a brief rest in Him. And I just couldn’t do it. My mind was racing, my thoughts were dancing around, distracting me. I couldn’t even manage to focus for 5 minutes to clear my head and hear God. It was a failure to communicate.

I replayed the song half a dozen times before the charge went out on my iPod. Every time it was the same result. Halfway through the first chorus, my mind was veering off the path, into a landfill of garbage, trash, litter and waste.  As I pulled into work, I whispered, “It’s not you, it’s me.” As frustrated as I was about my inability to connect with God it at least felt good to use that phrase for once and not have it delivered to me amidst a bad breakup. Sorry, I digress. Another issue for another day.

I also felt somewhat healthy that even though I had been defeated by my worldly concerns, at least for today, I was healthy enough to recognize that God wasn’t the problem.

There is a time in a not so distant past that I would have been upset with God for not being there for me. You know, kind of like that cheesy story about the footprints in the sand and the guy says, “Oh, but see back there, dude, only one set of footprints, what’s up with that?” Slightly paraphrasing here. And God responds, “Um, hello, that’s when I was carrying you.” 

Since I’ve been caught in multiple riptides during my visits to the ocean, I will use the following analogy as a less cheesy footprint in the sand example. It’s kind of like getting sucked out to sea with the current. You find yourself flailing for a moment; you see the beach getting smaller in the distance. You hopefully come to your senses and remember the proper technique for swimming out of the pull. And eventually, afer strenuous effort, you drag your tired, weary self back to shore. Beaten down, slightly shaken but alive. The land never moved. You drifted into danger. You got pulled deeper by outside forces. You separated yourself, actively or passively, from the safety of the sand.

In this analogy, of course, God is the beach. He didn’t move. He didn’t wander out of cell service. He didn’t turn His back or fall asleep. I allowed myself to get pulled down and out by the riptides of this world. I allowed issues that expire to trump the eternal.  And as I type this, I’m still trying to work my way back to solid, safe ground. Not having a whole lot of luck yet, but this post was at least a bit cathartic. I’m always disappointed when I let my humanity get the best of me, as it has the past few days. Not surprised, but definitely disappointed. I appreciate knowing that God, like the beach, will welcome me back to His sandy shores if and when I’m able to shake loose of the down and out feelings that leave me at a loss for words. And when I get back into range, He’ll be on the other end. Ready to communicate.