Confident.

Confidence, quiet but sturdy.

Not in who I am, what I've done, or what I think I ought to be entitled to.

It comes with the Spirit.

Rushes in like the wind, remains present like the rapids.

Confidence.

It is the product of assured love.

Like the glacier melt off; it is the product of something greater, something deeper.

And deep cries out to deep.

Am I surprised when I discover that I can go deeper still?

He calls from the sea.

Feet still in the shallow end, head a great distance from the surface, from immersion.

"How?" I ask.

"Down." He whispers.

Loud and sultry, His words seem so right. They resonate with something deeper in me.

It comes again, this time not with doubt but with ignorance: "how?"

Patient and longing.

Deep cries out to deep.

"Come." He says.

For down is the way up.

Confidence.

It is rising now; nearing lustration, baptism.

It is sure, just as sure as He has risen.

{heart}
Kel


{I like it here.}


{alot.}