Deep calls to deep. That’s what the Bible says. Until recently I didn’t fully comprehend those mysterious words. The deep, hidden places inside of me—easily covered by bright smiles and cheerful hellos—longed for something deeper in Him, an encounter that would impact me in every hidden corridor of my life, one that would nudge all things into crisp, clean alignment.
And so, in the quiet aloneness of a pandemic, I stretched my arms to the sky and asked for more—more of Him, more of me, more of us. I asked with the anticipation that all could be mended, that all could be changed, that hope could be restored. He extended His hand and asked me to dance. I accepted, feeling a bit like a schoolgirl with a crush.
At His leading, I tip-toed out into the waters, pressing my toes against the gravelly bottom of an unfamiliar pool. First, knee deep—laying down old habits, picking up new ones. Then, hip-deep—pressing into the harder places, soul bared, hands lifted. Then waist-deep—beginning to feel the joy of new beginnings as the water met me in new and fresh ways. Then shoulder-deep, fully giving myself over to intimate times with Him—in worship, in prayer, in praise. . .so much praise. And then, in those glorious moments, pressing my face into the water and soaking in His presence, a secondary baptism, of sorts, but without the usual witnesses.
The fresh wind of the Spirit began to blow, and my spirit felt like dancing. Truth be told, I did dance—in my living room, up and down the streets as I walked the dogs, along the edge of the lake, where the water rippled under the mid-afternoon sun. And somehow, as my feet took to flight, new ideas began to flow, like water tumbling over the falls. Heavenly downloads began: Thoughts. Dreams. Visions. Plans. Stories. Messages. Prayers. More ideas. Scriptures came alive. Songs became transformative. Relationships became spiritual bonds. Circumstances became stepping stones.
My precious time with Jesus altered my thinking and gave me new hope, new excitement, new energy, new possibilities. Deep called to deep, and continues to beckon still, though the chaos swirling around me threatens to interfere. I want to stay in the pool, to drown out the noise of the world. But the water-dance begins to shift. He leads me in new steps. The deep inside of me now longs to reach the deep inside of others. Those who are ready. Those who feel called. Those with seeds of faith. Those unafraid to try. Those with arms to link. Those with eyes to see. Those with ears to hear. Those with the tingling of hope. Those excited about tomorrow. Those who would woo the lost and broken into the water, so that they too can experience His depths. Those willing to be the light in the darkness, the city on a hill.
In short, those who aren’t afraid to dance.
Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.
Psalm 42:7-8 NIV