So used to living underneath the surface…

What the…her head bobbing up and down like bobbing for apples water engulfed her lungs. She was cold. She bounced amoungst the massive wreckage of what was their boat. 

The lifeboat was floating barely in miss of her head also in miss of her snatch as it whisked by. She wondered if her kids were in reach of it. She heard nothing but the howls of the deep gloomy sea. Where were they?

How they got so far out to sea that no land was seen with shift of her eyes was beyond her. 

Their mast was up, they had dreams to set sail. For their ship as they say had come in. Anchors away! Ahoy we are ready to set sail, out for the greatest adventure yet. 

Lost at sea how could this be. The next feed of sharks. Treading water had become her purpose. So used to living underneathe the surface. 

Eels swarmed with infatuation of the perpetual motion of her feet. So to her it felt like die or die. There was no try. She moved and they may take feast, she stopped and the sea would be her grave. 

Unarchored in the oceans ground. Her whole family lost at sea. Unearthered and immersed to her death in the dicey waters. 

This should have come of no surprise. As they set out without God’s leading. He was not captain of their boat. He was left dockside. They waived him goodbye. He was not their compass. 

Unarchored they missed their mark. The dark eating at her flesh. They needed to make it out set their feet on solid ground. She no mermaid could not make the sea her home. 

She was in loss of her children. She needed God to come to their aid. She was not ready to sign her rights away. Not this day in the eye of the storm. The crash and burn pained her so. Lord she thought if she could just make out His eyes she could grab for His hand. Pulling them all to land. Their safety anchored with Him at the cross. For they then would not be lost. Unmoored no more, set ashore. Bodies in tact, and no casualties at sea. 

Lord! “Let it be, let it be, no casualties at sea.”

Word Prompt: Unmoored

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Author: Lisa O'Day, Cries from an unkempt garden

I write to tell my story of how I overcame self affliction, and great despair in this life. For I write to share the death to self that took place. That I may Glorify God in all I do. May my writings be a refelction of freedom, for I am no longer in captivity of self. May they be warm, and inviting. For I write because God has given me words that drip from my mouth to be seen.

3 thoughts on “So used to living underneath the surface…”

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