Citipointe Worship - Into The Deep Lyrics

Video

Into The Deep - Citipointe Worship | Chardon Lewis - Official Lyric Video

Meaning & Inspiration

I’m still shaking the dust off my coat from the last place I shouldn't have been. When you’ve spent years running toward anything that promised to numb the ache, hearing a song like Citipointe Worship’s Into The Deep hits different. It doesn’t feel like a neat Sunday morning anthem to me. It feels like a survival manual.

There’s this line in the bridge that stopped me cold: "Submerge my feet to my head in all of You."

Most people want to wade. They want to stand at the edge, keep their shoes clean, and just get a little mist on their faces. I get that. I spent a long time protecting my own perimeter, making sure I kept enough of myself hidden so I wouldn't have to fully commit to anything. But when you’ve been out in the weeds—when you’ve known the kind of dark that feels like it’s actually eating you—a little mist doesn’t do anything. You don’t need a gentle baptism. You need a total immersion.

I think about Jonah, tossed overboard into the chaos, sinking into the belly of the sea where the weeds wrapped around his head. That’s the "deep" he’s talking about—that place where you finally stop fighting the water and let it pull you under. It’s terrifying, but it’s the only way the filth gets washed off. You can’t get clean if you’re still clutching your pride, and you certainly can’t get clean if you’re trying to stay dry.

The song talks about being "drowned in Your love." It sounds a bit violent, doesn't it? But that’s the grace that actually makes sense to someone like me. I don’t need a polite invitation; I need to be overtaken. I spent so much time taking myself over, steering my own ship into the rocks, that I’m exhausted. The idea of finally being "caught in the current," completely helpless to stop the tide of grace from crashing over my head, is the only thing that’s ever offered me real rest.

It’s messy. It’s not a safe, tidy feeling. Sometimes when I hear it, I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, thinking maybe I’ll wake up and realize I’m still in the gutter. But the lyrics keep pushing: Immerse me.

It’s a dangerous prayer. If you ask Him to submerge you, you’re asking Him to end the version of you that was so good at destroying itself. I’m still learning what it looks like to breathe underwater, to exist in this flood where I don't have to be in control. I’m still figuring out how to let the current take me somewhere I never would have chosen on my own. I don’t know where this ends, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel the need to scramble for the shore.