"Get out of the boat"

"Get out of the boat."  Those were the words the Lord spoke to us out of no where last year.

"Get out of the boat.  Take his hand in one hand and take her hand in the other.  Do not let go, and keep your eyes on Me, not on the choppy water."

We had no idea what God was up to, but with His peace in our hearts, we said "Yes, Lord" and stepped out of the boat of familiarity and predictability; knees knocking, hearts pounding.

Little did we know how much they needed us.  How much they needed this Mama.  How much they needed Willie.  How much they needed our children.  But God did.  He called our family, our friends, our church, and an army of Weavers to love on them and shower them with God's Love.

Life outside of the boat was rough.  Wave after wave hit hard for the next nine months.  Gasping for breath and swallowing water became the new norm.  Before we knew it, we had completely lost sight of the boat and of the horizon.  It was only Jesus and the army of family and friends that were sustaining us.  Yet, we never let go.  We struggled hand in hand; holding on to them tightly and treading new waters while God healed old wounds.  God was faithful.....every.....single......day.

The first storm cloud grew in size and strength until hurricane force winds threatened to destroy the structure of who we were.  We called out to every resource known, but no one seemed to be able to send the help needed or direct our steps where to find it.  God had us anchored, but weathering this storm became dangerous.  The waves finally broke us and the Lord said, "let go of his hand".  I struggled harder and squeezed him tighter, hoping more love was the answer.  But again, God said, "let go of his hand".  Face down, battered, bruised, and stripped of strength; I relinquished his hand into His hand.  Tears became the waves pounding my heart; scars remained where once love filled.  he was gone.  The winds and water receded, revealing the damage left in the storm's wake.

Our children were in shock from the fury they witnessed.  Willie was in "protector" mode.  My Mama heart was broken.  But God's peace surrounded us all until we knew God had only called us to hold his hand for part of the journey.  Wherever he goes, Jesus goes with him.  Our touch on his life was over.

With no time to catch our breath, the second storm cloud hovered over our exhausted, broken bodies and souls.  This storm did not have the potential for destruction as the first storm did, but we had nothing left.  Even our prayers exhausted our souls as we were weary for a boat or the horizon to come into view again.  "Lord, what do you want us to do?"

Whether God faintly whispered or we acted from sheer depletion, we will never fully know.  But we let go of her hand too.  We needed to find solid ground quickly and this seemed best for everyone.  We heaved ourselves over the side of our boat and slept.  And slept and wept.

As we slowly began to regain our family and life inside the boat again, we could still see her from a distance.  We called to her and shared time with her, but the reality was she was drifting further away.  Not drifting forward, but drifting backwards.  The new was fading into the old.

We scrambled and prayed and desperately sought all the resources known to us, to reach out and grab  her hand once again.  To stop her from drifting away from who she was meant to be.  Our attempts failed.  She too is gone from our touch.  We are once again left with an ache, a scar, and a heart that still loves.

In my anger and hurt and depression I called out to God, "why did you ask us to get out of the boat and hold these two precious hands if all that was accomplished was damage?"  "Why Lord, WHY?"

After weeks of silence and pain, God softly spoke into the quiet of my heart.  "Because now she's Mine."  June 26, 2014 she became a Jesus-girl.  "You took her hand and led her to Me."  "Nothing can snatch her out of My eternal hand."  

"But Lord, what about him?  He's so young and carries so much baggage."
"He's Mine too."  "You took his hand and brought him to Me every night to talk."  "I slept with him and he was no longer afraid to sleep every night."  "He knows I am his biggest Super-Hero."

The missing is still messy.  Life out of the boat on the choppy water felt anointed with a passion only from God.  Life inside the boat now seems so very hard without them.  There are days I want to jump ship and just start swimming; hoping to close the gap and catch just a glimpse of their faces.  I still want to hold their hands, pull them to safety, and give them everything they need.  But they have Jesus and He is more.

God said, "let go, they are Mine".
And so I trust and pray and listen for the Lord to say again, "It's time to get out of the boat".........