I need to sleep, but I can’t. Sometimes, the end of a day is a sad thing, like the end of a book that is so good you just don’t want it to end. What will the end of life be? Like when I finished the Harry Potter series? Or now that I’m waiting feverishly for Breaking Dawn and coming to the realization that Bella is going to become a vampire in one of these books for sure. But anyway, seriously, will it be like that, just like when a story ends and there is a slightly stilling moment and then nothing? Or is there always something more? I hope so. I believe so, but with this little tiny bit running around who is so damn fragile, I realize how scary life can be. Suddenly finding all the answers is important. It’s not just about me anymore.
Have you heard the song “In the Deep” by Bird York? It starts like this: Thought you had all the answers to rest your heart upon. But something happens, don’t see it coming, now you can’t stop yourself. Now you’re out there swimming … in the deep.
Have you you been out there? I’ve been out there a few times. There’s this image from A Perfect Storm that haunts me. It’s the last one (stop if you haven’t seen it and don’t want the end ruined) where Mark Walhberg is floating in the big blue ocean. He’s all alone. He’s surrounded by miles of ocean, angry storm ocean at that, and he looks around at nothing but empty sea. He’s dead. There is no hope. He made it out of the boat just to die in the water, alone. But he gives this little soliloquy to his wife, telling her he loves her. That love is what it is all about.
In the movie, his wife is looking out of window and she pauses, like she got the message, like her words carried on the wind. Foolishness, you say? I don’t know. I swear when a good friend of mine was killed in a car wreck I knew the moment she was hit, for my heart stopped and my soul whispered her name to me.
There are moments like that, when you awake, and what on earth do you do then? That image of floating out in the deep has stuck with me. I was in Mexico trying to learn how to serve people but caught up in a whirlwind of worry about approaching my mid-twenties and still being single. We had a bit of time to ourselves, so I swam out into the ocean, as far as I comfortably could go. I faced out into the endless ocean and, as kooky as this might sound, I felt like God spoke to me. He told me, simply, to stop worrying about a husband, that he had one for me, and everything would be alright. He was right on that front, and had I not been able to focus on my career to get it started, we would not have been able to keep him home with our daughter these first two years—something important to both of us—and I wouldn’t have found my soulmate had I demanded just any ol’ man back then.
Life keeps tumbling your heart in circles until you … let go. Until you shed your pride, and you climb to heaven, and you throw yourself off. Now you’re out there spinning … in the deep.
See. That’s just it. It’s like we are laundry and we’re in the spin cycle and it hurts like hell, but oh how clean and warm and soft we’ll be. And Marky Mark was right; love is what it’s all about. It’s worth swimming up to the top, declaring to your one with your last breath just how much they mean to you. Why don’t we do that now?
In the silence, all your secrets will raise their worried heads; well, you can pin yourself back together, to who you thought you were; now you’re out there livin’ … in the deep.
Check out this video; this is an amazing song.