the belly

I imagine that Jonah fought.

That he saw the massive body of the slimy fish coming at him, jaws open, gills opening - shutting.

I bet Jonah swallowed a lot of water.

Thought he was going to die.

In one fluid, devastating motion the fish swallowed him.

Whole.

And dove.

Deeper.

I bet Jonah waited.

To drown.

To be digested.

But it never happened.

-

Have you ever been snorkeling?

I remember as a little girl being in Destin, Florida.

We would spend all day on the beach.

Rent flat bottom kayaks.

And snorkeling gear.

I didn't use the snorkeling gear much, because it rubbed my nose raw.

But I distinctly remember the first time I went underwater.

And how the rest of the world faded away.

Everything was muffled and blurred.

Quiet.

Still.

Nothing else existed.

-

The Lord sent a big fish (or whale....) to swallow up Jonah.

And in the belly of that sizable fish,

I believe the rest of the world faded away.

Everything was muffled and blurred.

Quiet.

Still.

Nothing else existed.

-

Jonah ran.

The Lord followed.

Stole him away from his tragedy,

and hid him away quietly.

Made him be still.

-

The fish was not a punishment.

Not a scaly manifestation of the Lord's wrath.

Quite the opposite.

The belly of the fish was a sanctuary.

The safest place in the world...

a holy place.

-

The Lord loved Jonah.

So much that he plucked him out of despair.

Out of a churning sea.

Out of the hands of death and betrayal and sin.

His remedy was creative.

And terrifying.

Life-saving.

-

I find myself, today, wishing a fish would scoop me up and swallow me whole.

If only...

so I could have three days and three nights of quiet.

Of stillness.

Of one on one time with the Lord.

-

I am not Jonah.

I have not been running from the Lord.

If anything... I've been running towards Him.

After Him.

But my ears have been filled with noise.

And the chaos of my life is reverberating off my ear drums...

so loud.

Deafening.

I sometimes cannot hear His voice.

-

It's time to put on the snorkeling mask.

Let it rub raw the space between my nose and lip.

Let the fish God sends, swallow me whole.

And keep me safe for a few days.