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 I’ve swum in our backyard pool all my life. I know every turn and fold in its lining, the sound of the water lapping into the filter, and the slight burn of chlorine in my eyes. I’ve swum laps, had pool parties, and floated on those lazy days of summer. I’ve graduated from floating on inner tubes to the diving board and mastered both the canon ball and the back flip. Still, no matter how fast I run and how high I jump, I must always be careful to avoid hitting the pool bottom. I quickly arch towards the surface almost as soon as I hit the water to avoid the incline from the deep end to shallow end. 
I love my backyard pool – I’ve swum there all my life, and I know its every bend and turn. Still I’m not content. Long ago the challenge of the deep end was austere, and I never would have even tried the diving board had my brother not pushed me in. But now some part of me longs for more. I want to dive from breathtaking heights off high canyon cliffs into waters whose depths seem endless. I want to swim in oceans so wide and unending that lifetimes upon lifetimes would but touch the mysteries they contain. Somehow I must move to deeper waters.
article by Kristen D'Arpa
e-mail her about it at kdarpa@whchurch.org
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