After inching to the pool's edge, then slowly sliding into the water, I pushed off the wall with my left foot and glided through the water. I kicked with both feet, left then right, left, right, and waited for the pain, for the stiffness. It didn't come. But the tears did. Tears of healing gratitude, streaming down my face.
As I swam -- freestyle, breast stroke, back stroke, side stroke -- back and forth silently crying with Cheshire grin, a song came to mind and I sang, "You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown, where feet may fail." I laughed and sung again, "where feet may fail."
There I was, swimming, laughing, crying, singing. Floating bouyant, kicking steady. Where feet fail.
And then, this: When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. Isaiah 43:2
Floating on my back, staring at the ugly ceiling of the hotel's pool room, listening to my kids splash and play in the shallow water on the other side of the rope, I sing, "Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders."
This isn't the first time God used water to grow my faith and show me unending grace. There was the flood of 2011. I needed that flood to wash away my pride. I knew that flood was preparing me for something. Something that would require deeper trust, abiding faith. I just didn't know it would come in the form of a broken leg and dislocated foot. I just didn't know it would come when my foot failed.
It's been 8 weeks since my foot failed me. I can't walk without my walker yet. But I can swim. I can swim where His "grace abounds in deepest waters...where feet may fail and fear surrounds me." I can't walk. I can barely stand on my own, but I can swim because He's never failed me.
I needed this failed foot, this broken leg to bring me into His presence, powerless, control-less. I'm not ready to walk again. Not on solid ground. Not yet. I'm still swimming in His grace.
Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) by Hillsong