I feel like I’m drowning.
I struggle to tread water, proclaiming my innocence to the turbulent skies: It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it, I didn’t know, but the waves keep dunking my head under water and the more I protest the more I swallow and there’s nobody can rescue me.
They say when man makes plans, God laughs. That seems apt. Like a toddler, I struggle, determinedly, relentlessly, to put one foot in front of the other, despite being off-balance and exhausted, while God laughs a cruel, mocking laugh at my efforts. How could I ever accept, let alone worship, a being who doesn’t love me enough to take my hand and steady my weary footsteps?
So yeah, not a fun week.