Page 94
Story: Austen
His mom, again.
She sneaked in, sat down beside him in the raft, her voice soft in his memory, praying over him like she had for so many years when she’d come home from a shift and checked on him, even into his teens.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.He makes me lie down in green pastures.He leads me beside still waters.He restores my soul.”
Declan put a hand to his chest, feeling his heart thump.His soul felt brittle, cracked and dry.
Of course, there was Austen again too, her words as they’d escaped the yacht:“We set ourselves at odds with God all the time.Whenever we take control of our own lives and say, ‘Thanks, but I’m in charge now.’”
He nearly laughed with the horror of it all.
Oh, he was tired of being in charge.He opened his eyes, stared at the stars, the moon waxing bright against the black.
“Whom have I in heaven but you?”Again, Austen’s voice, but...maybe...
God, I want to trust You.
But even as he thought it, his gut tightened.
No.No, he didn’t want to trust.Because what if...what if God didn’t show up?What if He didn’t rescue?What if...
What if he was lost at sea with no hope of rescue?“Like Paul being shipwrecked.”
He shook his head.Clearly God had a sense of humor.
“Sometimes God leads us into a place where we can’t fix it so that He will.He lets us get in over our heads.‘Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand.Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.’”
Oh, Austen.Even in his memories, she was light and truth and hope.
Or maybe...
Maybe she simplyreflectedlight and truth and hope.He sat up against the edge of the boat and scrubbed his hands down his face, looked again toward heaven.
Who else, really, did he have?
The wind caught his voice as he spoke.“God, I don’t know....I want to believe that You care.That You’re not laughing at me right now.That I’m not...”He swallowed.“That I’m not lost from You.”
“God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”
Right.He drew in a breath, the knots inside tightening.“Oh, Lord, please...please forgive me for my pride.Help me trust You.”
He spoke the words aloud, but they echoed in his heart, right down to his parched soul.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”
“You.Are with me.”
Even as he said it, his body reacted.His heart stopped thumping wildly, warmth settled through him.And he breathed.Full and deep and?—
Untangled.
Oh.Oh.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.”Amen.
Yes.Yes to it all.
Freedom from himself, from the need to control, tofix, everything.As if he could.
She sneaked in, sat down beside him in the raft, her voice soft in his memory, praying over him like she had for so many years when she’d come home from a shift and checked on him, even into his teens.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.He makes me lie down in green pastures.He leads me beside still waters.He restores my soul.”
Declan put a hand to his chest, feeling his heart thump.His soul felt brittle, cracked and dry.
Of course, there was Austen again too, her words as they’d escaped the yacht:“We set ourselves at odds with God all the time.Whenever we take control of our own lives and say, ‘Thanks, but I’m in charge now.’”
He nearly laughed with the horror of it all.
Oh, he was tired of being in charge.He opened his eyes, stared at the stars, the moon waxing bright against the black.
“Whom have I in heaven but you?”Again, Austen’s voice, but...maybe...
God, I want to trust You.
But even as he thought it, his gut tightened.
No.No, he didn’t want to trust.Because what if...what if God didn’t show up?What if He didn’t rescue?What if...
What if he was lost at sea with no hope of rescue?“Like Paul being shipwrecked.”
He shook his head.Clearly God had a sense of humor.
“Sometimes God leads us into a place where we can’t fix it so that He will.He lets us get in over our heads.‘Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand.Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.’”
Oh, Austen.Even in his memories, she was light and truth and hope.
Or maybe...
Maybe she simplyreflectedlight and truth and hope.He sat up against the edge of the boat and scrubbed his hands down his face, looked again toward heaven.
Who else, really, did he have?
The wind caught his voice as he spoke.“God, I don’t know....I want to believe that You care.That You’re not laughing at me right now.That I’m not...”He swallowed.“That I’m not lost from You.”
“God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”
Right.He drew in a breath, the knots inside tightening.“Oh, Lord, please...please forgive me for my pride.Help me trust You.”
He spoke the words aloud, but they echoed in his heart, right down to his parched soul.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”
“You.Are with me.”
Even as he said it, his body reacted.His heart stopped thumping wildly, warmth settled through him.And he breathed.Full and deep and?—
Untangled.
Oh.Oh.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.”Amen.
Yes.Yes to it all.
Freedom from himself, from the need to control, tofix, everything.As if he could.
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