It Turns Out – A Children’s Story For Grown-Ups
It turns out
The shallow end
Is where the mud puddles are
And snakes creep
Each step taking her ankle-deep
In pluff mud and oyster shells
Razor blade sharp
Leaving her both bloodied
And muddied
A yucky combination
Of grime and blood and more
If she were a hippo
Grand and glorious it might be
Or even a alligator stalking his prey
Instead, she is a soul in need of a Savior
Sinking further and further
Up to her neck in muck
Paralyzed in wet, brown, slick
Ick
Like a child stuck in fear
Mud baths are for pigs
Not for grown ups
Alone and afraid
It turns out
The deep end is where life is
Best lived
In the waters far from shore
Waters cool, crisp like
Green apples, mountain grown
Bittersweet,
The waters run
And she should too
She was made for deep places
Never found the shallow
Had much to offer her
In life, in faith, in love
Equipped, she is
Created for diving off the end
The high dive made for the Bravest of souls
Into the dark cool, water
She shall dive
Freedom replaces fear, there
In love
Ocean of grace
Wait for her
And it turns out
The edge of the dark
Is the edge of the light
Thin veil of faith
Separates the two
She, quick to forget
Quick to unlearn
Sinking, not swimming
Setting for muck
Instead of a cleansing bath in
Warm Mercy waters, lapping her soul
With salted grace
It turns out
She would need reminding
Again and again
Child-like faith
Bold and brave
Seemed out of reach
Hers prone to
Sinking at the first big wave
It turns out
He knew this about
Her all along
And loved her anyway
And saved her anyway
And chose her anyway
And redeemed her anyway
It turns out
This is not the end.
elizabeth w. marshall 