There's a novel by Richard Bach that has a nice, little allegory in it concerning the little marine creatures that cling to the bottom of the river. Their whole lives are spent always clinging against the horrendous current. None dared to let go because the current was powerful and would sweep away anything without a sure hold on the rocks at the bottom. But the creatures were so restricted in their lives because they expended so much energy clinging that there wasn't much else they could do and so they knew very little about anything never having explored much of their world, always preoccupied with their incessant clinging.

One day, one of the creatures said, "I'm dying of boredom! This constant clinging is useless. It is no kind of life! I trust that the current knows where it's going. I shall stop clinging and let it carry me where it may."

The others said, "You're crazy! That current will dash you against the rocks and kill you in a hot second! Don't be a fool!"

But the creature was ready to accept death over this useless clingy existence and let go. The current picked him up and dashed him hard against the rocks and it seemed as though he was about to pay for his foolishness when, suddenly, it lifted him free, high above them all, and carried him down the river.

Downstream more clinging creatures looked up and saw Him and were amazed. "Behold! One of us and yet he flies!"

He looked down and said, "I am no different than you. The river delights to lift us all free if only you will let go. Come with me and we'll make this journey together."

And then He was gone. Leaving the others, still clinging to the bottom, to tell their stories and weave their legends of the Great One's passing.