Reaching up...

I'm sharing with you one of my all-time favorite paintings of Christ, my Savior....and ask, "What do you see?"

What I see....

For a very long time I was struggling, and when asked 'what was the matter' the only words I could find, that I felt adequately expressed what I was truly feeling, was the response, "I'm drowning". 

Drowning in my own disappointment, exhaustion, helplessness, struggles, overwhelming tasks....feeling defeated, failing, useless, forgotten, and at times, very...very alone, even when surrounded by the ones that loved and supported me. 

Adjusting to life with 5 kids. Accepting the release from my calling in Young Womens to support and stand with, (once again) my amazing husband through his Bishopric calling. 

I found my self struggling to stay calm and in control through homework, diapers, dishes, laundry, baths, mealtimes, bike rides, playtime, bedtime....Sundays...ahhh Sundays were the worst, the days that I would dread. 

Knowing each Sunday morning I would wake up, dress, feed and usher my not so cheerful children to 9am sacrament meeting, Where my sweet husband would meet us, hug me, kiss me and announce with a smile that he was 'Glad we made it'. 

For more than an hour, seated on a bench...I was shuffling kids, feeding snacks, quietly reading books, complimenting coloring pages, redoing hair, quieting complaints and glancing once in awhile to the speaker at the pulpit, wondering when they were going to wrap things up...but also catching a wink and compassionate smile from my loving husband. Reading on his face, that he would be with me if he could. 

Then one Sunday....in my normal routine, as I slowly strolled the halls of my church building swaying and trying to comfort a sleepy, sobbing baby...wondering what uplifting messages were being shared in class that I was missing that might have been the key to open the door and release me from this dark mental prison. 

I gazed nonchalantly, almost carelessly at the paints that hung on the walls until my eyes fell upon this one. 

One I had passed and glanced at countless times before, and felt a rush of unexplained, yet undeniable love from my Savoir. 

I paused a bit longer. My eyes falling dead center, looking past the raging waves, the vibrant colors and two men in the center of it all....

I knew at that moment, all I needed to do, to save myself from sinking lower was to reach out. 

Christ wasn't just offering a hand to help....when Peter realized he was in trouble, he simply reached up...not finding Christs hand...but Christ finding him, taking hold of his beloved friend Peter and saving him. 

The grip of Christ's hand on Peters wrist in this painting is so powerful to me.....yet unseen by many who pass it by. 

I know my Savior lives!

I know he knows and loves me!

I love him and I am forever grateful for this beautiful reminder that we are never alone.