We were walking across a large gravel path.
Except I wasn’t walking. I was flat on my face.
He was dragging me through it, because I couldn’t walk. Or wouldn’t — I’ll probably never know which. The rocks cut and scraped and bruised. And I clung desperately to the hand that was pulling me, pleading every second for Him to not let go.
If this is what it takes for me to remain in You…if this is the only way to bring me through to the end…then Jesus, please don’t stop dragging me.