5 Minute Fridays are the brain child of Lisa Jo Baker. Basically, writers are invited to write for five minutes on the word of the day. You can find out more about it here. Today's word is "dive." So, I guess I'll dive right in. ;)
When I was a kid I had a phobia of the water, so my mom, who also is not a big water fan, decided it would be a great idea to get me some swimming lessons. I was excited as I put on my little ruffled bathing suit and put on my stylin' swimming cap (did I mention I've had lifelong ear problems so I had to wear one of those cool swim hats that you see in the Olympics - only when I was 8 years old, it wasn't all that cool).
I arrived and we all got into the shallow end. We took turns going underwater (I wasn't a big fan), floating on our fronts and our backs, and then, the teacher said we were going to jump off the diving board.
The little enjoyment of the morning evaporated in the wake of sheer terror. Jump in the deep end? I couldn't swim. What was wrong with these adults? That was the whole reason I was here - I couldn't swim!
Being so very kind, I let everyone else cut in front of me in line. I was the last one. I climbed with trembling legs up the ladder and inched my way out onto the board, clinging to the rail for all I was worth.
The water seemed far, far away and as I stared into what seemed to me unfathomable depths, I knew I was going to die. I determined right then, I was NOT letting go of that railing, no matter what they did to me.
First, they tried to have me hold onto the end of this pole. I shook my head stubbornly. They kept coaxing me and telling me how much fun it would be and they would pull me up. I knew they were lying.
Then one of the instructors climbed up the ladder. She took my hand and said, "I'll jump with you. We'll do it on the count of three."
I took a deep breath. She counted 1, 2, 3. I bent my legs to jump, thinking if somebody was with me, I could maybe do this.
And I didn't.
Instead, I wrapped my arm more securely around the railing and somehow pushed the instructor into the water.
You thought I was going to give some lovely analogy about being able to face our fears with someone beside us didn't you?
I wish that was true. I wish we could help our friends dive into the water, to put aside their fears and have the freedom of slicing through the water with the need to hold onto the side of the pool.
But just as that instructor couldn't help me overcome my fears, we can't always help others to take the leap, and sometimes we end up getting pushed in the water when we're trying to help.
My Dad is the one who ended up teaching me to swim. Why? Because I trusted him. I knew he'd never let me go. I knew he would never let me drown. I also knew he was the best swimmer I knew - never mind those instructors.
When I need help to take the leap, to go ahead and dive in, the only one who can really help me, is my heavenly Father.
Why? Because I trust Him. I know He won't ever let me fall, and He created the water in the first place.
~ Blessings, Bronte