A futile endeavor is the wrestling of tides.
I gain the upper hand just to lose it again.
It pushes and pulls me and draws me deep.
This is life with its ebbs and flows.
This is romance with its comes and goes.
And it exhausts and you arrive on the beach
Drained of energy, soaked through with stress sweat.
And I watch this in others, remembering the game once played,
Thr wrestling of tides I once did too,
Now so glad God granted me favor and closeness with Him
So now I am above the waters, looking on.
I am no longer in the water, now in the heavenlies.
I rise above the tide and wrestle it no more.
Why more do not decide this, I know not,
But I am grateful for the renewed energy.
I thank God.❤