Into the open sea.

This past week, every day, I was waking up instantly strangled by stress.
I was choking for air, unable to breathe.

No sooner than I woke up was I barging into the presence of my Father sobbing and collapsing. 
Gasping.

"Don't trust me with this. Don't ask this of me," I begged.
"I can't."
My vision blurry and soaked, I would run into His arms.
We would sit tangled up together. He would wait for my breathing to regulate.

But then one morning, while I started to calm down, He asked, "Can I show you something?" 

His hand motioned out to the open, endless horizon.

"Easy or light aren't words for this journey, for these waters.
This will be straight into the waves, right into the open sea.

I am calling you into this, into the deep end.
I am ever beside you, ever with you.

But ask yourself,
Will you hand authority to the waves, to the wailing winds?
Will you steer back from a dark, black night?
Will you pull back in the middle of a thunderstorm?

You were not made to stand at the edge of all that is unknown and stay there. 
You were built for the great wide open."

He paused.
"My daughter, while we're out there, are you going to trust your feelings or your Father?"