People my age, they're drowning.

I have dessert with some ladies once in a while and we always stay out late talking about life.  They shock me.  They make me laugh.  But most of all they give me hope.  I love the women in this town.  They're just great.

I told them about the drowning.  About how many times I've heard compromise and I just don't know anymore and I feel so far away.  Then they said what I needed to hear about making it and God and faithfulness and I drove away, safe.

When you get into this age, you start to collect things.  Boys, furniture, stemware, shoes, churches, people.   I think it's probably because we're desperate to define ourselves.  And we're mad for appearances.

But sometimes I look around myself and it's all I can do to not head for the hills or buy a one-way ticket or take off in my car. 

I was talking to a good friend from far away and I told him.  I just want more.  More than the job and the house and the dependable car.  That all doesn't quite excite me.

I want to love children.  I want late conversations with my sister and long bike rides with my father.  To take those days and steal away somewhere and to be only about Him. 

And it's my stacks of old journals and drawer of letters and saved voicemails I might never delete that mean the world to me.

We're drowning because all we can see is the water and all we can feel is its weight on us, pulling us down.  But He gave us arms and He gave us legs and we can fly in the water, we can.   

I get asked a lot what it is that I'm thinking.  I think it's because I'm quiet.  People expect big thoughts from quiet people.  It's really not fair.  And I hate to disappoint, so I usually shrug my shoulders.

But here's my thought today. 
Start swimming.