The Vessel Collection

Lord, will You give me an awareness of Your presence today? Help me see the sacred hiding in the snack crumbs and swim bags. Help me recognize when something natural quietly becomes something supernatural.

The other day, I was sitting at swim lessons with my three-year-old. It was loud, it was chaotic, and yes, I was sweating through my shirt while trying to pretend I was relaxed. Nothing about the moment seemed holy. But somewhere between the smell of chlorine and the sound of a whistle, the Holy Spirit slipped in.

The kids were working on a drill called “uh ohs.” Honestly, the name made me laugh. It’s a practice where the child pretends to fall into the pool, then flips around and kicks back to the wall. It is designed to teach them what to do if they ever fall in by accident. The instructor stands right there, close enough to intervene but far enough to let the child learn how to do it on their own.

Then it was my daughter Katherine’s turn. She fell in, turned around, kicked, and made it to the edge. She pulled herself out, sat down, and took a breath. She was fine, but her little lip started to tremble. With big eyes full of tears, she looked up and said, “I was scared.”

Her instructor gently smiled and replied, “I know you were scared. But my hand was right beside you the whole time. I never left you.”

And just like that, I was a mess. Sitting there in Target flip-flops, getting choked up behind my sunglasses.

Because that was me. That is me. Flailing through life, trying to remember what I’ve learned, panicking in deep water while completely forgetting that God’s hand is still right there.

It reminded me that a vessel mindset doesn’t avoid the deep end. It steps in, knowing the water has purpose. It trusts that the Potter does not walk away just because things get hard. God does not allow struggle to punish us. He allows it to prepare us. He uses it to grow something steady inside of us.

Katherine had everything she needed. She had been taught, encouraged, and prepared. But she still felt fear. And that’s okay. We all do. What mattered most was not her performance. It was the quiet confidence of knowing someone strong was right beside her.

That is how God works with us. He stays close, even when He feels quiet. His hand hovers, ready but not forceful. He knows when to step in and when to let us kick. And He never walks away, even when we forget how to breathe.

A vessel is not formed in ease. It is formed through process, pressure, and presence. His presence. And even when we feel like we are barely making it, we are being shaped. He is not asking us to be fearless. He is asking us to trust the hand we cannot always see.

That day at the pool, God spoke through a soggy towel and a swim drill. The ordinary became holy. And the “uh oh” turned into a reminder of His unwavering nearness.

So today, I pray:

Lord, help me trust You in my own “uh oh” moments. Remind me that I am not alone in deep waters. Give me eyes to see Your hand when I feel like I am sinking. Shape me into a vessel that trusts Your process and rests in Your presence. Thank You for never leaving. Even when life feels shaky and my goggles are fogged up. In Jesus’ name, Amen.