Life guarding Faith
Once we got there, we'd head over to 17th street beach, where the waves were the best, and we'd body surf in between sun sessions.
On a particular Saturday, we got there early, scoped out our spot and set up our towels. I hated laying out in the sun. So, it wasn't a surprise when I headed off into the water, with my friend Lori, right alongside me. Jackie, who definitely appreciated an opportunity to lay in the sun, stayed behind.
The water was fun that day. The waves were especially big and powerful, which made the body surfing so thrilling. Lori, who wasn't exactly the strongest swimmer was starting to have a little trouble. I looked over at her to see if she was ok. She didn't look like she was able to catch her breath in between the waves, which were now coming one right after another it seemed. I started swimming over to her when I realized, shoot. I'm in trouble.
The waves that were so fun in the beginning, were now cresting one, after another, after another. Just when I would dive under one, I'd push myself back up to catch a breath, only to find myself in the current of another swell.
Now I was the one in trouble.
My mind started thinking with a quickness that startled me. If I could get my feet on the ground, I could stop this washing machine roll that wasn't allowing me up out the waves for longer than a brief second before being dragged out. No, that wouldn't work, I'd have to rely on my kicking and swim up up up, until eventually I could grasp at air.
Looking over at Lori one last time, as I felt the pull dragging me down, I realized, I couldn't help either of us.
This was it.
I'm going to die now.
I was just about to give up and go under, the ever deepening water, when I pushed up one last time and popped my head above water to breath and scan the shore.
A lifeguard was running breakneck speed towards us.
Oh yeah. I thought. I forgot about lifeguards.
The seasoned swimmer had a difficult time getting to us. We had been caught in a nasty undertow that took us far beyond our usual shallows.
The lifeguard got Lori first. As he got her situated on the floaty thingy, a huge wave came and crashed me up against the sharp rocks of the jetty. Instead of allowing the wave to tumble me back into the foam, I clung onto that rock, like a drenched cat.
The lifeguard made his way to me, with Lori coughing and clinging to the floaty thingy.
"Get off the rock! Come down here!" to which I naturally replied,
"No, thanks! I'm good. I think I'll stay here and just climb out this way."
I'm pretty sure he wasn't used to someone arguing with him in a rescue situation. So, he just stared at me with this incredulous expression as he repeated, "Let go of the rock!"
As if I still didn't get it, I repeated, "Nope. No. No. I'm fine. I can do this."
You see, I had been in that undercurrent. There was water and waves and non breathing down there. At least on this rock I was safe. Sure, I would probably break my leg on the rocks walking back to the beach, but at least I wouldn't drown.
What I didn't understand, was that, the safest place for me to be, was on that floaty thingy...with the lifeguard. But I had to be willing to go back into the rough sea. I had to trust that this lifeguard, knew what the heck he was doing. I had to trust that the weird floaty thingy would hold me, and my friend Lori. I had to stop trying to do things my own way.
Obviously, I eventually was talked down off the rocks, like a lifeguard-directed hostage negotiation. (Who argues with a lifeguard...?) And the guy just casually swam us around the rocks, to the protected side of the beach and drug us in to shore.
As we panted on the beach, coughing and spitting as all the sunbathers applauded the hero, we embarrassingly, skulked back to our beach towels and tried to become invisible.
What I learned from that experience, other than the fact that me and rip currents don't jive, is that I have a problem trusting. Here I have someone who risked their life to save me, and I was still trying to make my own way out of my messy situation.
Sound familiar? Yeah. Every time I find myself caught in the rip current of anxiety, or fear, despair, or condemnation, I try every way possible to get myself out of it. My own attempts leave me bruised and worse off than I was in the beginning.
God is asking me to trust Him. To dive back into the place where I was hurt, and to know that He is going to pull me around to the safe side. I may be a coughing mess, but He's going to get me through it. I may have a (healthy) fear of water for the rest of my life, because, hey, I got burned. I don't ever want to feel that sinking pull in the under current again. But God uses the very things, sometimes, to bring us back to a place of healing. To show me, that there is danger, yes. But He can carry me. He WILL carry me. And somehow, it's going to be ok again.
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