Hang Tight

We're runners deep down.

The tide changes, and we flinch because we're stuck and that's not how it's supposed to be.

I became afraid of the leaving. 

Blink again. You're old. You've missed it.

I won't let that happen.

My fears become a warm shield, and I'm so busy working my hands into them that I never notice they're killing me. I never even notice I'm suffocating until I'm gone.

We're runners deep down.

So why do we let our fears control us?

Why do we let our fears keep us stuck to the same land that is not ours anymore?

We try to go home, to a place that isn't home anymore. 

I become so busy fearing that I don't realize when it's gone. But sometimes my fear sends me away before it's time to go.

I talk a lot about running. I talk a lot about leaving.

It's probably because I'm scared of it. I'm scared of the man who pushes my tube down the snowy hill yelling, "hang tight!" Because hanging tight means you're gonna fly. 

Hanging tight means there is going to be a moment when your faith is all that's holding you.

And sometimes you spin out. Sometimes you hit the jump and scream because it hurts and makes you feel alive. 

We're runners deep down.

So, hang tight. 

We'll see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living again, even if no one else does.

Hang tight. 

You're gonna fly, darling. 

♥

xoxo