There’s a moment every swimmer —the panic of realizing the water is stronger than you are.
You kick harder. You thrash. You burn energy trying to stay upright, trying not to sink, trying to control what cannot be controlled.
And the irony is this: The harder you fight the water, the faster you exhaust yourself.
Yet the body was designed with a quiet truth built into it. If you stop fighting… if you loosen your grip on control… if you lean back and trust the water beneath you—
You float. No striving. No force. No panic. Just surrender. So much of life mirrors this struggle.
We swim against currents of uncertainty, fear, loss, ambition, and unmet expectations. We tread water endlessly—holding ourselves up by sheer willpower—convinced that stopping means sinking.
We push. We plan. We worry. We force outcomes.
And even when we get results, they come at a cost: exhaustion of the soul.
God never designed us for a life powered by constant self-effort. Willpower has limits. Control has limits. Even our best intentions eventually run out of breath.
“Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,” says the Lord Almighty.
— Zechariah 4:6
Floating feels risky at first. It requires trust—trust that something unseen will hold you up. The water does not disappear when you stop fighting it. It does what it has always done.
God is the same.
When we stop thrashing—stop demanding answers, stop forcing timelines, stop insisting on our own way—we discover that grace was already beneath us.
Surrender is not giving up.
It is giving over. It is choosing trust over tension. Presence over panic. Faith over force.
Swimming against the current may feel noble, even productive, but it is not sustainable. Floating teaches us something deeper: we were never meant to carry the weight of life alone.
God does not ask us to outswim the current—He invites us to rest in Him while He carries us through it.
Learning to float is learning to live by grace instead of grit.
Lord,
I confess how often I fight the waters You ask me to trust.
I exhaust myself trying to control outcomes You already hold.
Teach me to release my grip.
Teach me to float in Your grace.
When fear tells me to thrash, remind me to rest.
When pride tells me to strive, remind me to surrender.
Carry me where my strength cannot reach,
and let Your presence be the water that holds me up.
Amen
