Faith

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A SWIMMING LESSON TEACHES FAITH

I dreaded opening the door to the damp locker room of the YWCA. The smell of chlorine and wet hair accosted my nose as I stepped inside. I hated coming here. I hated struggling into my old fashioned yellow knit hand-me-down bathing suit. I hated its prickly feel on my skin and I hated the way it made my tummy stick out. I envied the sleek styled suits the other kids wore. I hated standing alone, feeling clumsy and awkward, as the other swimmers laughed and chatted with each other.

I was a country girl. There were no blue-green pools with springy diving boards where I lived, only little streams meandering through meadows and shady groves. What I knew of water was jumping across stepping stones and catching minnows. None of the kids I played with were familiar with fancy, tiled swimming pools. But my mother wanted me to learn to swim, and so the swimming lessons had begun. I pulled up my itchy suit, fastened the strap of my white rubber bathing cap, and stepped cautiously through the door into the pool area.

This was the place I hated most. The air was hot and humid, even though the water in the pool was icy. However, the temperature was not my biggest concern. My real distress began when I got in the pool. I clung rigidly to the side, praying that no one would splash water in my face. I detested getting the stinging water in my eyes. Even though I scrunched them tightly shut, the water still seeped in. It also leaked through my cap,clogging my ears.

This was my third week, and while the other students were splashing merrily about - some even stroking their way across the pool, I still froze at the thought of actually putting my whole face in the greenish water. I could sense the other girls watching me, probably giggling together about my fearfulness.

A hefty instructor was soon beside me, urging me to let go of the side and not be afraid. Little by little I pried my fingers away from the ledge. Today she was confident that I was actually going to float, although I did not share her positive outlook. Floating meant putting my face in the burning water and keeping it there, lying flat with my feet no longer touching the floor of the pool, and trusting the water to keep me afloat.

"You can do it. Just relax," said the instructor. How was I supposed to relax when I was terrified?

"Just pretend the water is a soft, downy feather bed."

A soft, downy feather bed! How could this water, which stirred with my every movement, hold my weight? I was petrified. My body became stiff as a board. And then, without warning, she pulled my feet out from under me, and I sank like a rock.

"Try again." I tried, tensed, and sank.

"Try again. Relax. Trust me. I will have my hands under your tummy." I tried, but tensed and sank.

"Relax. Trust the water to hold you up." I tried, but as soon as I felt her hands move away, I tensed, and sank.

"Relax. Trust me."

For three more weeks we repeated this process and I still did not get the hang of this relaxing stuff. By then, the other students were doggy paddling across the pool. A few were even doing a fair interpretation of the breast stroke. Why could I not relax and trust the water to hold me? The swimming course finally ended, and the best I could do was get my feet off the bottom of the pool, but only as long as the instructor's hands were holding me up and giving me confidence.

Was that the end? No! After three more swimming courses I was floating without the instructor's help. I was also doing the back float, the breast stroke, and the side stroke. I had mastered the general mechanics of swimming, and even deep water held no terror. I eventually tackled the diving board, including the high dive and accomplished a fair jack knife, back flip, and even a simile of the swan dive. Some of us are simply slow learners when it comes to trusting.

Some of us are also slow learners when it comes to trusting God, to relaxing in his care and giving our lives totally and completely to him. We cling to the edge of our faith, barely getting our feet wet in the depths of his love. We are scared to let go and let God. We cannot relax and give our life totally and completely to God. We try to take control and it doesn't work. The result is a shallow faith, a faith without security.

Jesus says in Matthew 6:30,31, (ESV), "If God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we wear?' He has promised to supply all our needs.

So don't be afraid. Step out into the deep waters of faith and trust God to hold you up and keep you afloat. Let the waves roll over you, for He will not fail you.

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