Smooth is easiest, of course.
The glassy surface. No wind. Clear. Beautiful and predictable.
But there will be no sailing on that water.
Best to stay on shore. Watch from the edge. Let the worries keep me here.
It’s just not enough for me. It never has been. I want to move from where I stand.
A hunger not satisfied in my own efforts.
It’s a question He asks. Will you leave the shallow edge. Will I?
I long for deeper. Ruffled , troubled waters. Wind. Full sails.
In the yielding is the radical.
To follow as He beckons. To see what He sees. To know Him.