I knew what to do. You had told me everything that I needed to know. You said that you believed in me. You said to trust you.

I stepped. Within moments I'm gasping. My head is under. I'm disorientated. Confused. Afraid. Panic. The water is everywhere. I'm going to sink. I don't know how deep this goes, but I'm struggling to keep above it all. Arms and legs desperately reaching and kicking. My mind is blank. I can't remember a thing you told me. Doubt. Despair. What was I thinking stepping from there? I'm shouting out, but in all the wrong directions. Helplessness. Fear. Where are you? Why can't I remember?

After panic is defeat. Overwhelmed and exhausted. There's no more effort. Sinking. I'm not awake anymore. Losing what it means to feel alive.

There are no cries left. Just heaviness. Could you even reach this deep? Hidden. Unseen? Would I be worth retrieving? I got it all so wrong.

He reached down from on high and took hold of me
He drew me out of deep waters
He brought me out into a spacious place
He rescued me because he delighted in me
He shows unfailing kindness.
Psalm 18.