The hand of God....

Sinking, floundering, losing.

Darkness is all around.

My feet have nothing to stand on, but flimsy foundations that disintegrate as I fall.

My arms, my hands recklessly reach for nothing as I go under.

It's dark above and dark below and all around me.

Fear is my company.
Panic is my companion.

That is all I see as I slip under. Choking, gasping, calling out....

"Lord help me."

Then there is a touch. I feel a warmth in my hand. A touch of safety, of security, of life. A hand reaching out, touching my hand.

I then feel it's strength, holding my hand. Gentle and loving.

That warmth enfolds me. I feel safe as I am lifted from confusion, from the grasp of death.

I feel my body being lifted into light, into a place of life, of freedom, of love and grace.

Into the arms of my Father God.

I am safe.
I am alive.
I am loved.

I am home.