My baby's takin' on water!
This article is my submission to the blog challenge sponsored by Darlene Schacht, Author of The Mom Complex. Enjoy!
A Kodak moment. It can go from "priceless" to "crisis" in a matter of seconds. We've all seen it. You're at the little league game, trying to keep your preschooler from eating a wad of someone else's gum from the bottom of the bleachers, while simultaneously nodding approval for your older child's determined performance at bat. And as we all know, the real performance comes when we attempt to convince slugger we've actually seen his amateur grand slam. In fact, all we've really seen is the disgusting ABC gum strung from the bottom of the bleachers to our preschooler's chomping mouth. Choking back rising stomach contents, we sigh smile and wave frantically at our lil' slugger on the field, two thumbs up, doing our best to seem interested and proud in the midst of our apalling distraction. Well, I had a moment of sorts this past Thursday. A Kodak crisis moment, that is.
It was the last day of my kids' swim lessons. The young instructor was holding my Reece and Cierah under the water, pushing them down toward the bottom and through an upright floating hula hoop, then lifting them up to the surface again. All was well for a g'zillion dunks.
Then it happened.
Reece spontaneously decided to ask a pressing question during launch and,...well,...let me just say it's REEEEEALLY hard to inflate one's lungs sufficiently the nanosecond before the swim instructor sounds the dive siron and plunges you into the deep. I immediately white knuckled the plastic chair I sat in, knowing full well my baby did not have enough time to fill his little lungs with precious O2, let alone close his intake valve (a.k.a. yapping mouth) before submersion.
Time passed in sloooooooow motion like an old vinyl record on the wrong speed (Hey, wasn't that always great fun!) It sure seemed like an extra long dive as my eyes searched for any sign of his head breaking the surface again. Finally, his instructor's extended arms moved in an upward motion, bringing my boy sputtering from the depths and...ICK, coughing up frothy spit and water from his lungs while simultaneously trying to inhale.
Oh! OoOOooh!
My baby! Oh my!
Let Mommy come and calm you and comfort you and get you away from that mean ol' swim instruct,.......
Wait just a minute!
Did he just say, "Do it again!"???
Did I hear my darling, waterlogged boy correctly?
But,..... he literally drank of the forbidden water and he,.....he sputtered!
I think I actually gasped out loud in the next moment, as there he went again,...DOWN, DOwn, down. Five seconds and a big giggle later, he was up from the deep and begging to do it again.
I felt so,.....well, deflated for one. I had perceived a much bigger emergency in my "mother's tunnel vision" than had actually existed. My boy wasn't drowning. He wasn't traumatized. He didn't read the panic in my voice and didn't feel betrayed by his swim instructor. No, he simply accepted the moment for what it was, a mouthful of water in the swimming pool of life.
I was immediately reminded that my children are not my possessions but rather God's precious treasures, on loan to me, placed in my hands for but a season, to train up in the way they should go (Proverbs 22:6). Sure, my baby was takin' on water. Yes, he was sent below the surface without sufficient air to make it through the deep and back out again. But he is a child of God, who made him, loves him and is always with him, even as he dunks in the deep end. God can go where I cannot, even to the bottom of a pool. Isn't that just like Him to use what I perceived as a crisis to teach ME that He is always with me too, through every "crisis" motherhood might bring my way. When I signed the kids up for swim lessons, little did I know that I would learn a lesson or two myself. And you know, it makes those pricey fees worth it all the more.
Isaiah 43:1-2But now, this is what the LORD says — he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
It was the last day of my kids' swim lessons. The young instructor was holding my Reece and Cierah under the water, pushing them down toward the bottom and through an upright floating hula hoop, then lifting them up to the surface again. All was well for a g'zillion dunks.
Then it happened.
Reece spontaneously decided to ask a pressing question during launch and,...well,...let me just say it's REEEEEALLY hard to inflate one's lungs sufficiently the nanosecond before the swim instructor sounds the dive siron and plunges you into the deep. I immediately white knuckled the plastic chair I sat in, knowing full well my baby did not have enough time to fill his little lungs with precious O2, let alone close his intake valve (a.k.a. yapping mouth) before submersion.
Time passed in sloooooooow motion like an old vinyl record on the wrong speed (Hey, wasn't that always great fun!) It sure seemed like an extra long dive as my eyes searched for any sign of his head breaking the surface again. Finally, his instructor's extended arms moved in an upward motion, bringing my boy sputtering from the depths and...ICK, coughing up frothy spit and water from his lungs while simultaneously trying to inhale.
Oh! OoOOooh!
My baby! Oh my!
Let Mommy come and calm you and comfort you and get you away from that mean ol' swim instruct,.......
Wait just a minute!
Did he just say, "Do it again!"???
Did I hear my darling, waterlogged boy correctly?
But,..... he literally drank of the forbidden water and he,.....he sputtered!
I think I actually gasped out loud in the next moment, as there he went again,...DOWN, DOwn, down. Five seconds and a big giggle later, he was up from the deep and begging to do it again.
I felt so,.....well, deflated for one. I had perceived a much bigger emergency in my "mother's tunnel vision" than had actually existed. My boy wasn't drowning. He wasn't traumatized. He didn't read the panic in my voice and didn't feel betrayed by his swim instructor. No, he simply accepted the moment for what it was, a mouthful of water in the swimming pool of life.
I was immediately reminded that my children are not my possessions but rather God's precious treasures, on loan to me, placed in my hands for but a season, to train up in the way they should go (Proverbs 22:6). Sure, my baby was takin' on water. Yes, he was sent below the surface without sufficient air to make it through the deep and back out again. But he is a child of God, who made him, loves him and is always with him, even as he dunks in the deep end. God can go where I cannot, even to the bottom of a pool. Isn't that just like Him to use what I perceived as a crisis to teach ME that He is always with me too, through every "crisis" motherhood might bring my way. When I signed the kids up for swim lessons, little did I know that I would learn a lesson or two myself. And you know, it makes those pricey fees worth it all the more.
Isaiah 43:1-2But now, this is what the LORD says — he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
7 comments:
Hi Toni:
Okay so now to keep up I have your page in my "Favorites".
If the desire to write is not accompanied by actual writing, then the desire must be not to write. ...Hugh Prather
Take care...Dan
Well said, Toni. I enjoyed reading this today :)
Michele
Hi Toni,
I love reading what you write! I wish I could share things as well as you do.
Have a great weekend. We are getting over the icky flu here. 4 out of 5 of us have it while dh is somewhere warm in AZ. Luckily my two little ones were able to get on the Tamiflu to help lesson the symptoms.
Great Post!
Take care!
Melissa
I wish I could say it gets easier, but when they're out driving around and there's no coach there, it's a little harder! Nevertheless, we have to hand them over to God. He is theirs. We are His. It's all good, but it's not easy!
Well said, God can go with them everywhere and praises for that.
Great post!
It's during those times of fear that we realize how these little lives are only on loan. Scary at times, but it teaches us to trust in the Father. Thanks for the wonderful story.
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