I went swimming in the lake last night...as I've been doing a lot lately. It's usually just a quick dip and cold bike ride home. I got in and started swimming towards the buoy and I just couldn't stop...I just kept staring across at the other shore and swimming. The sky was orange and purple as the sunset behind the fires. I kept swimming. I couldn't help but imagine the 'what ifs'...what if I got tired or got a cramp, what will I do when I reach the other shore?...but I never did tire or panic. It was an amazing experience... I thought a lot about death, actually...the helpless approach to death's door... the vastness of space and time surrounding us and the fact that all we can do is keep going... towards the other shore...when I got there I stood there for a little while pretty awed at the distance, the crossing over, the dusk...wondering if I could (or should even try to) make it back or if I should walk into the night back around to where I started-cold, alone and well...wet. So, after a couple moments there by the shore I just started swimming again. It was an incredible sensation...of hope, I guess...that I would make it. Comforted by the few boats still out and the belief in my ability...
It's my birthday on Wednesday. I'll be turning 27...one giant step into adulthood is what it feels like and so I hear from other 27 year olds. My aunt reminded me recently about how my dad became a Christian (due in part to the event of my birth) and the 'blessed assurance' she has of seeing my dad again in heaven...because they both follow(ed) Christ. No matter how you look at it, my birth was a pretty powerful experience for my dad and I think a strong connection between us remains because of it...either way, I believe I'll be with my dad again...until then, through the sadness and tragedy the inevitably of death brings, the risk that it is to love...I keep going...swimming...but, not alone.
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