29/05/2025
Heavenly Father,
Today is Thursday, May 29th, and I hear You clearly. You’ve called me to deeper waters—not to drift, not to sink, but to step forward in faith where comfort can’t follow and control has to die. You’ve made it clear: I won’t grow on the shore. Safety isn’t the promise—but Your presence is.
So here I am, Lord, standing at the edge—tired, worn, and afraid—but willing.
You see my weariness, Father. You see the tears I don’t show, the ache in my chest from carrying things that feel too heavy for one soul. And yet, You’re still calling. Still whispering, “Deeper still.”
Give me the strength, God—not just to keep walking, but to trust You in the places where the ground gives way. Remind me, like You said in Isaiah 43:2, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.” Let that be more than a verse today—let it be breath in my lungs.
I don’t ask for easy, Lord. I ask for endurance. I ask for peace in the deep, and grace when the waves rise higher than my head. Remind me I’m not alone in these waters. You are the One who walks on them. The One who stills them. The One who pulls me up when I can’t swim anymore.
So I surrender again this morning—not because I’m strong, but because You are.
I’ll go where You lead. Even if it’s through the storm.
Just don’t let go of me, Jesus.
And I won’t let go of You.
Amen.
