A sea, split in half;
in an instant, a dry path through its belly.
A way, made, where there was no way.
That which should have hindered,
made to part in submission.
Waters friendly only to those of inheritance–
to the enemy, its walls a lure and a tomb.
He is not slow. He is timely,
still making a way where there is no way.
I trust. If He does not loiter about His promise,
I will not tarry to give Him my full alliance.
Not that I have achieved this, but I press on. Instead of deliverance tonight, my heart begs only for courage. I want a daughter’s birthmark of her Father’s strength for be forever tattooed on my heart.
Diane Helman 