What cost to cross the sea? To journey to the other side? To continue to hear and to see and to be? Reach the distant shores and abide?
How much? So much. All you have been, and are and hope and dream and long. Everything, to go. But to stay is more. To cease to hear his song. To remain; too much the cost to refuse the call. So leave everything now or find in the end that you have nothing at all.
The crossing; death. Death of self. Surrounded by tumult and fury and rage. Overwhelmed by the waters, thrown by the storm But never overcome never drowned by the waves.
It costs so much to journey this sea and beyond it to climb the hill. But it’s worth every moment every possible price to hear him speak, “peace” and be still.