There is a frog pond on our place. It’s been dry for several years, now it is rain-water restored again. When my boys were young, it stayed full – when we would walk around it hundreds of tiny frogs jumped out in all directions from each step. It would have been a stringy frog-innards mess with each step if the mud hadn’t been soft. The ones that didn’t jump in time simply squished down into the soft earth til they could shake their bodies back to the edge to claim life into the restoring water.
The transition then, from shore to water was without hesitation – no time for qualms. There is this brief moment when the frog body was neither on shore, or quite submerged into the water and a single push with long back legs would propel him forward into a seemingly endless glide into the deep. The water bidding them, full of instinct, “come forth”. They can. They did. They do.
The call of the Holy on you and me is full tilt instinct. As deep calls into deep, His call is steady on.
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