Put Your Feet Down

When I was in college, I worked at a camp one summer. It was a sports camp for inner-city kids from all over the United States. They would come in for a week at a time and get to do all sorts of fun, new things like zip-lining, tubing, and climbing on the high ropes course. I was a life guard for the summer so most of my day was spent at the pool, teaching swimming lessons and letting kids enjoy the beautiful facilities.

Most of the kids at the camp did not know how to swim. Every single week we would do the exact same swim test. Get in the water and swim from one end to the other. If you passed, you could swim all you wanted to. If you did not, you needed a blue band which meant you could not enter the pool area without a life vest. I started every week out asking who could swim...a sea of hands went up. So into the pool they went. In reality about 10% of the kids could actually make it from one end of the pool to the other, so I would start slapping wristbands on. Most campers were content in their life vests. They realized what it meant to actually be a swimmer and they knew that they could safely have fun with the vest. But occasionally we would have a few kids want to be 'retested'.

One afternoon, I had an 17 year old camper come up to me and ask if I could retest him. I knew this was a little pointless because I had watched him 'swim' for the past few days and knew that he would not make it across the pool. But I wasn't going to be the one to tell him he couldn't swim. This was one of our rougher boys. At just 17 years old, he had lived a rough life. Gang wars, shootings - the street life. This was the reality for a lot of our campers and this camp was supposed to be a chance for them to see that there was something beyond that. It was a place where we said "you CAN do this" in a world where they heard a lot more "cant's" and "wont's".

So off came the life vest. He started in the shallow end, kicking and splashing, and thrashing about. Then he was screaming....I literally couldn't believe I was having to jump in to save him. He was still in the shallow end, about 3 feet away from the wall.  I jumped in and grabbed him. He was genuinely terrified and wouldn't let go of my arm. His legs were still kicking as he held on to me and I said, "PUT YOUR FEED DOWN. STAND UP." It took him a minute to calm down enough to realize where he was and to relax enough to let go of me. He put his feet down and stood up. The water was hardly even to his chest.

But to him, he was drowning. He couldn't breath. He couldn't swim. He needed help, immediate help.

I have never forgotten that moment. The desperation in his cries. He really needed help and no matter how much I knew about the situation, how close he was to being able to help himself, he still needed me to rescue him.

Sometimes we are too overtaken by the problem. The waves of stress and anxiety threaten to overtake us.We get lost in the sea of doubt and questions. I have often felt that way. I get overwhelmed when I think of everything that needs to happen in my life and in what order for it to all work out as I have planned it. I see the next 10 years and I want to do it all at once. I want to know how our family will grow, where our next house will be...I want all the pieces of the puzzle to effortlessly fall into place and I want it to happen immediately and as painlessly as possible. I can get lost in an instant and get so disoriented that I completely forget where I am and how I got there.

As I helped him to the edge, we talked. I told him that I was proud of him for trying. I told him that sometimes this is how life works. We try and we fail, and we need someone to step in to help us. And I told him that this is what Jesus does for us. He grabs us and saves us because we can't save ourselves. He pulls us to safety, but we have to realize we are drowning and we have to accept the help.

And that is exactly what I have to do when I let my anxiety and fears of the future overtake me. I have to grab a hold of what I know to be true. I have to cling tight to the One who rescues me every single time. I have to let Him step in and help me and I have to trust that He sees the big picture. He sees that I am drowning and he will step in and help me find my footing again.