From FINDING HOPE…
In my dream I was drowning. The riptide was pulling me farther and farther out to sea. My legs kicked through the water and my arms thrashed about, but it did nothing to bring me back to the shore. And the waves…the waves were twenty feet high, angry and dangerous. Eager to swallow me. Below the surface I would go, choking down the taste of salt and sand with each gulp. Down I would be pulled and nearly drowned, then just before I died, the sea would mercifully spit me back up for air, only to start the fight again. It went on for hours. Days. Weeks. Years. At first, I wanted desperately to just float long enough to get a deep breath. But eventually, I desired only to give in and sink to the bottom. Away from the currents and waves. Away from the battle. Away from it all.