you’ve been clinging to this boat;
you think you’re drowning.
the waves are too high,
so you cower
beneath the benches
in your dinghy.

that sea monster,
the one you thought
you finally put to rest,
he’s clawing relentlessly,
dragging you down a familiar cycle:
what if this,
what if that.
you’re assuming the worst,
but Beloved,
I can create the best
from any situation.

listen,
my child:
step out of the boat.

you think I'm crazy.
the waves
the monster
the water—
the boat is your safe haven.
how could I ask you
to leave?

do not rely upon the boat:
under duress,
it will splinter,
leaving you awash
in your sea of monsters and fear.

I do not desire for you
a spirit of fear;
I have given you a spirit of power,
of love,
and of a sound mind.
you will crush the cobra
under your heel;
you will walk waves,
you will conquer this
water beast.

you fear giving up
control.
if you aren’t
worrying,
planning,
exploring every detail,
you feel
life will fall apart.

trust in me;
step out of the boat.

your first step will be shaky;
this is okay.
Beloved,
fix your eyes
upon me.
ignore the rushing waters;
I am their creator.
ignore the writhing monster;
at the sound of my name,
it will flee.

I am greater than your fears;
I am more than your temptations;
I have conquered your anxiety.
you are not the first
to struggle,
but I have already died in battle,
and I have already won the war.

I am your fortress;
in my arms,
you will be safe.