In Over My Head

There’s a song I like to sing that goes, “if it’s over your head then it must be under his feet.” Lately, I’ve felt that maybe some of us have been feeling like we are in over our heads in deep murky waters.  We are finding ourselves in situations and places where we never imagined we would be. We’ve got our hands out grasping for anything that might help us get a grip, hanging on to things that at least help us float awhile and catch our breath.

But is that how we really want to do life? Floating on a little bit at a time until we get pulled back under again and again?

Maybe that is? Maybe life is easier lived just floating on and on to the next thing instead of waiting on the lifeboat to arrive. Because when the lifeboat comes we give up the trip to someone else don’t we? Once we get on a lifeboat we’re releasing the control to someone else to get us safely to the shore. And maybe we want to tell them how to get there, what turns to make, what direction to go or ask them to turn back to save a friend.

Maybe we need to ask ourselves if our need for control runs deeper than our desire to be saved?

That’s a scary question for me because I struggle with that SO VERY MUCH.  I like to say “Here God, you take over now, you take this situation.” But then I’m still hanging on just in case.  Just in case what, he doesn’t know what to do? Just in case he forgets that he is God?  It’s laughable really because he knows I’m still hanging on every time.  He knows we are still hanging on to that control every time because we are all right there under his feet.

Ephesians 1:22 says, “And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church.”

He placed us all under his feet so that he would be overhead at all times.  We are his church, his bride, his love. And he placed his church under his feet so that we don’t have to be alone in our struggles, we don’t have to have the answers, we don’t have to be afraid, and we don’t have to feel like we are in over our heads struggling to catch our breath.  So instead of reaching out for something to hold on to and then hanging on for dear life, maybe all we need to do is look up and let go.  Wait for our lifeboat, whose timing is always perfect. Look up to the God that sees us when we’re weak, that hears every prayer, feels every tear, and asks us to just lay it all down at his feet.