By Marianne Wood

I’ve been swimming a lot lately. It is good medicine for my heart, mind, and spirit. It allows me to take a break from my phone and transports me to another, more childlike world.

While I stroke, kick, and stretch in life’s soft, clear essence, I often practice French vocabulary—particularly those darned irregular verbs. Sometimes, I simply count the strokes I make to get to each end of the pool. Often, I pray. But most recently, I made mental notes describing my surroundings and interpreting them as symbols of faith–shortcuts for questions of life. The following poem presents a set of observations and those questions. My conclusions and continuing challenges conclude this essay.

The room looms large with a tall ceiling
Supported by large columnar piers; 
A white life ring hangs handily 
Next to rescue belts strung in a row.

Who might need saving?
Isn’t everyone waterproof these days?

A silver conduit connects spaces
While vents send fresh air to all;
Speakers perch at the ready for alerts
To swimmers far below. 

What dangers might they portend?
Isn’t this the safe place?

A blue chair upon a white pivot sits ready 
For someone to be lowered into the shallow waters
Like the man in the Bible seeking healing 
From someone who could restore him.

Who might that man be?
Isn’t everyone like me?

Underwater, I see a T
Warning me
That I am near the end of my lane
Where a dark cross marks my stop.

Should I turn back? 
Shouldn’t I continue my swim?

We need the Ring that saves, conduits to other people, vents that refresh, speakers that proclaim truth, and help doing what we cannot accomplish by our strength. Sometimes, we need a miracle. And we always have the option to reach for Him, day after day. But do we choose to? Do we want Him? Or only what he gives?

Is God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit indeed the triune One who holds us, encourages us, heals us, and changes everything? Or is worship in a church simply a nice way to seek what we want–if but a quiet hour on a Sunday morning? 

That hour in church can be like time in the pool–simply a break from the world. Or it can also cause us to listen deeply to the richness of divine messages gifted ministers deliver in song and speech. If we look up, we may even see tender sacrifices of service inspiring us to find a lane, too.

Marianne Wood works as an editorial assistant and researcher for Bill Wright