In my younger days I thought it’d be cool to get SCUBA certified, so while I was stationed in coastal Virginia with the Air Force, I found a dive shop and got signed up for the course.
I had been on a few “escorted” dives prior to that, and I enjoyed them, so I figured this would be a fun hobby to get into. The course was split up into sections; we had classwork, pool time, and time in a lake.
The academic work made sense to me, and the pool time was a good warm up as far as familiarization with adjusting equipment and figuring out how to operate underwater. The lake was the part I was looking forward to, though.
When the day finally came, we showed up and went over a few things from class. Then we went over the dive plan and a map of the area where we’d be diving. Finally we paired off into teams of “dive buddies” and suited up.
It was much different from the pool. I didn’t wear a wetsuit; I wore a semi-dry suit, which made me very buoyant. It took just about all the extra weight I owned just to maintain neutral buoyancy. The instructors helped me with a few tricks and some extra weight, and got me ready to go. After we got our equipment situated to our liking, we began the dive.
It started off fine. We followed the plan, moving from one underwater landmark to the next without a problem. Over time though, something started feeling wrong. The buckle holding my air tank in place somehow came loose. The tank began sliding out of place, moving down my back.
Because of where the buckle was located and how the tank was seated, I couldn’t get the leverage or the reach to fix things on my own. My dive buddy was in front of me, and I tapped him on the leg to get his attention. He turned to look, and I pointed over my shoulder at my tank, but I guess what I was trying to communicate wasn’t very obvious. He turned back around and kept swimming according to our dive plan. I grabbed him and pointed again to my tank, making more exaggerated gestures. (It was frustrating being so close to someone without being able to talk to them!)
He finally figured out what I was getting at. I turned my back to him, he slid the tank into the right position and locked the buckle in place. After that I was good to go and we were able to resume the dive according to the original plan.
Sometimes, you just need a buddy. My prayer is that something I write on this blog helps encourage you to step out in faith and use the gifts God’s given you to bring glory to Him. My hope is that the fruit of your efforts goes way beyond anything you thought it would be, but make no mistake: if you attempt to give God glory, you’ll run into opposition. You’re going to get discouraged. You’re going to get knocked down. Having a buddy to help you get back on your feet is a great asset to have.
A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken. –Ecclesiastes 4:12
As you embark on your efforts to employ your God-given gifts and talents, keep your buddy/buddies close, and be quick to lend a hand when they get knocked down, too.