Lent 29: the edge of the dock.

My hands clasp each other tightly, filled with fear and tension. I stand at the end of the dock looking out over the ripples of blue water. My feet are planted firmly on the solid warm wood of the dock, and my toes curl around the edge, enjoying the comfort of worn wood bathed in sunlight. I know I cannot stay. It is time to jump in. I can feel myself trying to hold back tears.

Behind me I hear a familiar voice say, "Baby, just let go." I turn, and a kind, well-known face holds me in her loving gaze. I smile back at her and let the tears come. As I cry, she takes my hands in hers and kisses them. Then she lifts her hand and wipes a tear from my face with her thumb. "Child, it's okay to cry. But go ahead and jump. You are ready. Just splash, and float and swim." She laughs a deep, throaty laugh. It's warm and worn like the wood of the dock, like the smell of summer soil.

Then, I let go and soar into that wild blue water.