Based on Luke 8:40-56
I have been floating for awhile now.
In the sea.
I came here-
Leaving behind the shivering and shallow breathing and the weeping of my mother.
I left that pain and I came to the water. I have been here often with my mother and my father. This is the first time that it is
Just me.
I am held by the water now-
Its liquid, salty arms cradling me.
It feels so nice that I am ready to slip all the way under. The sunshine is above me in the sky and below me, embodied by the water.
My soul is torn
Two ways.
There is a woman’s voice, calling to me from the shore.
I open my eyes and
Raise my head
To see
Who and
Why and
What.
She is coming to me, her robes trailing in the sea. I can see that they are blood-stained. Her wake is red-tinted, but the time she gets to me, her robes have been cleaned and the water is clear behind her.
“Did Jesus send you?” I stare straight up at the blinding blue sky while I say the words. “My father was going to find him. To ask him to heal me.”
“Yes. Jesus sent me. You are very dear to Him.” She stands nearly chest-deep in the water beside me as I float. She is so beautiful.
“I’m getting tired,” I state.
“I’m going to hold you.”
I nod.
Her arms slip under me and I am pulled close to her body.
The muscles in my neck relax as I lean my head against her shoulder. I hadn’t realized how tired they were.
“Why didn’t Jesus come to me?” I ask, my eyes closed again.
Her cheek rests on the top of my head and she answers. “Because he stopped to heal me.”
My eyes open.
“You are healed?”
“Yes.
I am healed.
I am whole.
I am alone no longer.”
I nod. I’m happy for her. I’m glad Jesus sent her to hold me. Her arms beneath me feel like as much of a gift as healing would have been.
“He’s on his way to you.” The words are whispered over my head and they trickle down
my face,
my neck,
my heart.
I have been anointed.
I know that it’s true, because I feel Jesus near now. He is in the sunshine, above and below me.
Will I rise up or sink down?
The woman and I hover in time together.
I rest.
I only wake when I feel her arms pull away.
I flounder a moment, but quickly realize that I am in shallow water now. I stand up. The woman is gone.
I walk towards the shore, and as I step out of the water, dripping, I find that the shore is
my mother’s arms and
my father’s tears and
Jesus’ heart.
“She is hungry!” Jesus says.
And I am.
Jesus is always moving in someone, even when it feels like he is absent from you. Someone else, somewhere else, carrying the same ache as you, is experiencing the life and strength that Jesus brings.
When you cry because it feels like Jesus chose not to come to you, be assured that He is on His way. Jesus is always on His way to you.
When we find ourselves hovering together, some of us healed and some of us hurting, let’s hold each other.
The most beautiful way to wait for Jesus is together. Our strength and our stories and our weakness blending together until…
There He is.