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Writer's pictureMatthias Ong

Currents

We teach our children to swim.

In the hope they might survive.

When winds, and storm and the waves

And the currents of the ocean

Pull them under


But the Christian calling is even greater

To swim against a current all their lives

To swim and not make ground

Tired muscles draw them deeper into the water

Their mouths gasp for breath

As the fishes and sharks circle


They say there is a promise of salvation

A branch or a hand extended

But sometimes the swim is long and hard

And the currents swirl

You hear the crashes against the rocks

And an end can seem so soon.


And sometimes they tell you

Don't worry. You are strong.

Strength will be provided for you to carry on

Or even pull through

But your tiredness consumes you

And your mind

Some minds are stronger than others

But some tear and their tears and lost in the waters

Cos the river is unforgiving

And lives are easily forgotten


When oh Lord

They say you will call

And you shall provide all that we need to pull through

You see other swimmers perish

And some beat down other swimmers to get ahead

And yet your promise of

Tremendous strength

Hope and salvation

Is waiting. And waiting.


How many years in the current

And perhaps when we ended the life on the rocks

Or from heart failure

Or from thirsty

Or from infection

That we may look back

And blame ourselves for swimming against the current

When others use boats

And some just stop swimming

And go the other way

To the floodplains

Where things are rich

And cities are built

With gold and glimmering shimmer


How do we not doubt

And not feel forsaken

How do we tell our children to do the same

To do things harder

And harder and harder

And not give up

And keep going

Even when many others are going in the other direction

When they see our weariness

And they see our shame

They see our failures

And the pain


All we can do

Sometimes

Is to close our eyes

And float

Our head hit the rocks

And bleed

And our blood reddens the waters

Till our life in the river ends

And our hope brought

To where it always belongs


This is the lament

Of the man in the river

And the child who is waiting to swim

That pain shall be your story

If Jesus you let lead

Trust not the river

For it may bring you to doom

The current is not of Him

But from heaven He watches

Your swim.


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