As a teenager, I worked as a lifeguard four summers. Thankfully I can count on one hand the number of times I had to take action to save anyone. There were a couple of times kids jumped into water a little deeper than they expected, and I was able to extend a rescue tube to them, but those were easy. I only had to go in after someone one time.
At the place I worked, we had two outdoor pools. One of them had both a shallow end and a deep end (three to nine feet deep), and the other one was deep all around, where the shallowest part was nine feet deep and it went to 12 and a half feet deep. It was my turn to keep an eye on the deep pool, where we had two diving boards. This pool was easier to watch because there were usually only a few people in the water at a time.
This one kid, probably somewhere in the 10-13 age range, got on a diving board and walked to the edge, then unceremoniously jumped in. It took him a bit to come back up, but he broke the surface eventually. It’s a difficult thing to watch someone who’s drowning. If they’re still fighting to keep their head above water, kicking is the first thing to stop. It’s a reflex; you kind of get tunnel vision and if you can’t see your feet, you don’t think about them. The person just stays vertical in the water and kinda slaps the water with their hands without kicking. This is what the kid was doing when I jumped in.
I totally blew off procedure. I forgot to blow my whistle to alert the guard at the other pool and I didn’t tell others near the diving boards not to jump into the pool; I just jumped in and started swimming toward the kid. Since I had a pretty good size advantage on him, I also totally skipped the technique I’d practiced countless times in training. Instead of swimming around behind him to scoop him up by his armpits onto the rescue tube, I made a beeline for the ladder nearest him and on my way past I grabbed him around the waist with one arm, holding his head above water even though it meant keeping mine under. The emphasis was on speed, trying to prevent an active drowning victim from turning into a passive drowning victim.
The whole thing was over in a few seconds. I got him to the ladder, where he was able to catch his breath. I asked if he was okay, and he gave a panting “yeah.” He climbed out of the pool and walked away, and at that point I just got severely irritated with him. I didn’t ream him out or anything, but I got instantly enraged. I didn’t say anything else, but how could he jump into such deep water if he didn’t know how to swim? If nobody was around, you would have died, dude!
For less than a minute more than 25 years ago, our two lives intersected. If I saw him today, I’d have no idea it was him. I’m clueless about what he went on to do with his life and whether he’s closer to the “dirtbag” or the “saint” side of the spectrum. He may not even remember that day so long ago, but whatever else was going on in his life at the time, it’s pretty obvious to me God wasn’t done with him yet. I’m confident anyone on our lifeguarding staff would have been able to bail him out of the trouble he got himself into, but I was the one sitting in the chair that day. The Lord allowed me to be the one to play a role in a small, but decisive part of his life.
Every now and then I think about that kid and wonder what he went on to do in his life. Think about the people you come in contact with on a daily basis. There are people you know and see on a recurring basis, but there are also plenty of people you’ll probably never see again in your life. For brief periods of time, your life will intersect with theirs. It could have been someone else, but it ended up being you. Not all those occasions will be so definitive or dramatic as pulling someone out of danger, but some of them might very well be (literally or figuratively).
Embrace those little encounters, whatever they end up looking like. You may have been put there to make a much-needed difference. Don’t squander the opportunity. Maybe one day you’ll look back and find yourself wondering whatever happened to that person. Better yet, that other person may look back and be thankful for the time they ran into you.
For a few summers I was a lifeguard at a Christian conference center. One time there was a youth retreat going on when I was on duty at the pool that had a pair of diving boards. One of the youth leaders, Allen, was having fun racing the teenage guys in the pool.
It’s important to understand that Allen was middle-aged and wasn’t quite at his “fighting weight” anymore. Just about all of the young bucks at the pool that day could have smoked him in a 100-yard dash or pushup contest. You wouldn’t look at him and think that he was all that quick in the water. What they didn’t know was that Allen had spent a ton of time in the pool as a young man, and as a longtime member of the swim team, had practiced countless entries into the water, converting his momentum into underwater speed. Before he got into youth work, he was my lifeguarding boss (and we even got into a very sticky situation on the water).
From my lifeguard chair I had the best seat in the house. Allen took on all comers; he and any challenger would both start on a diving board, and on a signal they’d both take off running, dive in, and race to the far side of the pool.
It just wasn’t fair. It was so lop-sided that it stopped being fun for the challengers. Allen started giving them all kinds of advantages. He gave them the higher diving board while he took the lower one. He gave them a head start. He’d only be allowed to have one full stroke to make the far side.
It was close a few times, but nobody seemed able to beat him. A trend started to emerge though. Suddenly, as though it were contagious, many of the young guys would develop “leg cramps” during the race, which was obviously the reason they couldn’t keep up. It got to the point where, even standing in line, challengers would accurately predict that they’d cramp up during their race.
These guys were setting the table for their own failures. Failure is easier to tolerate when there’s an excuse for it, even if the excuse is flimsy or fake. I won’t lie, these guys were outmatched, but setting the table for your own failure, or purposely arranging an excuse for yourself, is giving yourself license to not try your hardest.
How many Christians out there today intentionally do not try their hardest to live the life that Christ has called them to? There’s no denying that a life completely dedicated to Christ is one that’s laced with struggle, exhaustion, agony, hours spent pleading with God…and unparalleled rewards. Yet so many of us set the table for our own failures. Imagine if we could talk with everyone that’s slipped from this life into Heaven, the honest answers we’d get if we started asking questions. “I didn’t give God my all during that life because…”
I believe the day is coming when some of Christianity’s practices or views will be outlawed or “canceled” here in the United States, the very country that was founded for the purpose of practicing freedom of religion. Since we’re not there yet, consider taking advantage of the religious freedoms we currently have. God has a purpose for your life, and He’s calling you to follow hard after Him. No excuses.
Lord God, we know in our heads that this life isn’t the permanent one, but the loud sounds, the bright lights, and the sparkly things here in this life seem like they’re able to distract us more than they should. Please help us have the right priorities, no more excuses, and a willingness to make sacrifices now for the sake of an eternity of satisfaction at having glorified Your name. Amen
I sat in the van, more
than a little worried. Remnants of a hurricane had swollen the river to a level
that wasn’t safe for recreational canoe usage, which became painfully obvious
on our last canoe run. Earlier in the afternoon another lifeguard and I had
accompanied a group of canoers on our standard trip, but one pair of boaters
somehow managed to broadside a bridge pillar. The current was so strong that it
dumped the boaters and bent the canoe around the pillar. My boss, Allen, and I were
on our way to retrieve the “shipwrecked” canoe, and I was a teenager
that was getting less and less comfortable.
Herb, the director of
the Christian conference center where I worked, was driving us upriver. The
plan was that we’d get into a single canoe, paddle over to the spot where the bent
canoe was still pinned against the bridge pillar, and break it loose. If it was
in good enough shape, one of us would transfer to it and we’d each paddle a
canoe back home. If it was too damaged for that, we’d both remain in the same
canoe and tow the damaged one behind us.
We could see the pinned
canoe from the boat ramp. I buckled my life jacket and climbed into the front
of our canoe. Allen skipped a life jacket, but had a rescue tube (one of those
big red floats that you see pool lifeguards standing around with) wedged under
his seat. We shoved off and right away got swept into the bright brown water’s
swift current.
The river moved so
quickly that we barely had to paddle. As we approached the bridge, we started
paddling backwards to slow ourselves down. We slowed down perfectly, turned so
we were parallel with the pinned canoe, and gently bumped up against it. A
perfect docking.
The problem was the current
was moving so quickly that when it crashed against the bridge pillar and the two
canoes, it pillowed up and created undercurrents that we couldn’t see or
anticipate. Even though we sat completely still in relation to the shore, the
water churned and frothed angrily beneath us as the river pounded the keel
relentlessly. Our boat shuddered, then flipped over, dumping us both upstream.
That water was flowing hard. I didn’t even have time to be
pinned against the canoe; I got dumped in and immediately got swept under the
boat. I was able to get a hand onto the side of the boat, and hung onto it with
one hand, and held the paddle in the other. I was laid out horizontally,
completely underwater, flapping in the current like a flag on a windy day.
I had no idea where
Allen was or what his status was. He had probably safely cleared everything and
was downstream by now, but maybe he had managed to hang on somehow. In the
event that he was still there somewhere, I needed to get into a position where
we could make something happen. I needed to breathe, but if I let go, not only
would I be unable to help Allen with recovering the canoe, but the attempt
would be over because he’d have to abandon the recovery effort and come after
me. Still horizontal underwater, I tried to do a chin-up so I could get my face
out of the water enough to catch a breath and maybe see where Allen was, but
the current was so strong I couldn’t do it. I think I tried again, probably
with both hands this time, but it still wasn’t working. With no choice (and not
knowing how long it would be before the river let me get to the surface), I let
go and got flung into the current, now at the whim of the river.
Honestly, when I
surfaced, I expected to see Allen downriver. When I came up though, I didn’t
see him. I turned and looked upriver, but didn’t see him there, either. I couldn’t
see him anywhere. The only place he could be was still with the canoe, somewhere
underwater.
The current pushed me
into the eddy behind the pillar, but I was about to be carried out of it. Once
I left the eddy, there would be no chance of getting back upstream. Allen was
in the process of drowning about 20 feet away from me; I swam with everything I
had, but I barely got anywhere.
While I was still
fighting to get upstream, he popped through the surface. I found out later that
the strap to the rescue tube wedged under his seat had somehow wrapped around
his leg, so even though he wasn’t hanging onto the canoe at all, the canoe was
hanging onto him. He had been dangling by his knee at the end of a strap,
batted around underwater without any way of getting air. It must’ve been his
guardian angel that shook the rescue tube loose from under his seat.
Just relieved that we
were both alive, my sense of humor returned. While we were still drifting
downstream, I asked him “well, do you want to try again?” Thankfully
he said “uh, no.” We were able to swim to shore and get out of the
water, but we were down another
canoe.
What would’ve happened
if Allen’s rescue tube hadn’t come loose? Could I have made it far enough
upstream to be able to help him at all? If it meant I would exhaust myself, what
should I have done, considering I’d probably still need a good reserve of strength
if we both needed to rely on me to get out of the jam we were still in? Thankfully,
I didn’t have the chance to think of any of this at the time. Allen bobbed to
the surface before I had time to think about it.
This event helped put
things in perspective for me. In this life, there are things you can control
and there are things you can’t. When you can’t handle it, God will take care of
it. If the only way out of a situation is via something that’s beyond you, there’s
only so much you can bring to the table, and you have to rely on Him for the
rest. Life has countless opportunities for you to bear witness to the fact that
you’re not in control as much as you like to think you are. Every day brings
new challenges, and a lot of them need God-sized help to overcome.
It’s important to remember that if God hands you an
assignment that you’re totally confident that you’ll be able to accomplish, the
task just might be too small. By all means do
it, but recognize that if it’s something you can handle on your own, there’s
not much room for God to be glorified. On the other hand, if you get to be part
of something that you could in no way have accomplished on your own, it’s
harder to take the credit for it. I give all the credit to God for shaking
Allen loose and granting us overall safety that day, and pray that recounting
this story glorifies Him further.
(Also, hypothetically,
if you ever find yourself in a similar situation with shipwrecked canoes, don’t
forget to call the local fire/rescue folks and let them know that everyone’s
safe and accounted for. Otherwise, someone will eventually report two canoes
pinned against a bridge, the rescue team will get all kinds of excited, and
then they’ll let you have an earful when they find out what actually happened
and that you didn’t fill them in.)
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This week’s posts took place at roughly this time one July. I got certified as a lifeguard very late in the summer when I was 15, so I didn’t get much experience actually working on duty that year. The next summer was different.
The Christian conference
center where I worked not only had two pools that needed lifeguards, but it
also conducted waterfront activities on the Delaware River. It had a boat that
guests could use for waterskiing and tubing, but it also did a lot of
“canoe runs.” A canoe run was where someone on staff drove guests a
few miles upriver and dropped them off with canoes, along with a lifeguard to
guide the group. This stretch of river was mostly flat, but did have a few sets
of progressively choppier or rougher rapids that helped break up the monotony.
Canoe runs usually occurred four or five days a week, many times twice a day.
As a result, the lifeguards became very familiar with the river and where they
might encounter trouble spots or submerged obstacles. They almost never went
more than a few days without being on the river, except for once each summer.
There’s a week every
summer where the organization’s program offerings change, and it does not offer
any waterfront activities. During this particular summer’s no-river-activities
week, the remnants of a hurricane blew through our area. It rained hard for a
few days that week, swelling streams and tributaries locally and for miles upstream
of us. The water level rose and the current quickened many times over as that
water made its way into the river.
For the first canoe run
of the following week, plenty of people were excited to go. Recognizing that
the river had risen substantially, an extra lifeguard went on this trip. I was
one of them. Things started out uneventfully, but we were still within sight of
the boat ramp when something very unexpected happened.
Here’s the bridge, with the supporting pillars. The one in question is the one right over this guy’s shoulder.
Soon after the put-in
point there’s a bridge that crosses the river. The bridge is built for vehicles,
so its pillars are pretty solid. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I
think the two men in one of the canoes were trying to get past one of the
columns and got surprised by how swift the current was moving. They somehow
ended up slamming broadside into the pillar. The current was so strong that the
impact dumped both people into the river and the force of the water physically
wrapped the canoe around the upstream side of the pillar.
With the current moving
so quickly, everyone else who had not
hit a bridge went flying past the site of the impact. The other lifeguard and I,
still a little stunned that someone had actually run into the only thing they
could have possibly hit, spun our canoe around and began paddling upstream as
hard as we could, but it was all we could do to not lose any further ground to
the current. Just about all of the other canoes did the same thing, but with varying
degrees of success. The two guys that got dumped in the water didn’t quite know
what to do, and were stuck in the eddy downstream of the pillar. Everyone
paddling hard was getting tired, so we had to shout to the guys to start
swimming downstream, out of the eddy, so we could reach them. They did, and we
eventually reached them and placed them in two of the remaining canoes.
This all happened
within sight of where we put the canoes into the water. We still had almost
three miles to go! I started worrying about all kinds of things. “What are
the rapids gonna look like?” “If the current’s moving this fast, is
our whole group going to be able to make land if they all arrive at our
destination at the same time?” “How do I tell my boss I lost a
canoe?”
The rest of the trip
wasn’t nearly as eventful as what I feared. The river was so high that the
rapids no longer existed, and the current moved so quickly that we made it
downstream in record time. It was a struggle at the end, but we were able to
get everyone back on land at the right spot. After counting heads and
accounting for all of the gear (minus one boat and a few paddles), it was time
to go tell the boss.
You might remember Allen from an earlier post. He’s the guy that recruited me into lifeguard training. He was in charge of all the recreational activities, and he was the guy I needed to tell. Allen’s the kind of guy that usually has the same facial expression whether he’s happy, sad, conflicted, ecstatic, flabbergasted, or thinking about a baloney sandwich.
“Dude, Al! We lost
a canoe! These guys hit one of the bridge pillars, the canoe wrapped around it,
they got dumped out, we picked ’em up and made it back, and as far as I know,
the canoe’s still there, stuck on the bridge!”
He just kind of stood
there and blinked at me, digesting what he just heard. He asked me a few
clarification questions, paused to think for a few moments, and then hit me
with:
“Well, let’s go
get it.”
Then it was my turn to
stand there and blink.
I should have protested
more, maybe making more of an attempt to convey the river’s strength. I was
fresh off the situation…I had just been there and seen the power of the
current, and how crazy high the water actually was. Allen knew the conditions
were much different from what they normally were, but he hadn’t been there to
witness the ease with which the river destroyed a canoe. At 16 years old,
though, I wasn’t confident enough to challenge my boss and say “I’ve been
there, I’ve seen it! You’ve gotta believe me!”
There’s a difference
between knowing something with your mind and having experienced that same thing
in person. If you follow Christ, He enables you to do things that you can’t do
without Him. The Bible talks about how we’re supposed to go out and tell the
world about Christ, being bold and taking steps forward when we can’t see
what’s in front of us. It talks about being strong and courageous, and it even
talks about how, if you’re faithful with a few things, you’ll be granted
authority over more resources so you can further demonstrate your faithfulness.
Yet it’s one thing to
read about and say “yeah, I know that, I’ve known that for years” and
quite another to do it. Keeping your keister parked on the couch instead of
being obedient is a loss for Christ’s kingdom. You, as a child of God, need not
fear even when seemingly impossible and daunting obstacles stand before you. If
you know that God will empower His followers to do His work, do you believe
Him? Going a step further, if you know that God has charged you to do something
overwhelming, are you stepping out in faith even when you can’t see what’s in
front of you?
Take the next step.
Step out in faith. He’s going to give you what you need to succeed in His name.
I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. You’ve gotta believe me!
I don’t remember if I was 16 or 17 but I worked as a lifeguard a few of my teenaged summers. The Christian conference center where I worked was always very busy in the summer time, so when I wasn’t doing lifeguard or pool stuff, I usually had some other type of work to do.
One morning I sat in an
office near the conference center’s front desk, doing data entry for some
upcoming summer programs. I heard someone come running in the front door, and breathlessly
told the front desk attendant, Kari, that there had been an accident down on
the river. On the other side of the Delaware River, right across from us, there
was a rope swing. Apparently a pair of guys that had been paddling down the
river stopped to play around on the rope, but the rope snapped on one of them while
they were mid-swing. According to the guy who came running in, his buddy was
conscious, but couldn’t get up. Since there were some people hanging out on the
conference center’s dock, the uninjured guy saw them and paddled over to ask
for help.
Kari called an
ambulance to get them rolling, then came back to where I was. She asked if I
could just go see if there was anything I could do to help or if there was
anything I could find out.
As I ran across the street
and arrived down at the dock, the guy in the boat was just paddling away in his
boat, heading back over to his buddy. I asked the people on the dock what was going
on, and got the same info I already had. It sounded like the guy in the boat
was super panicky, and it wasn’t clear if the injured guy had a hurt ankle or a
hurt back. There were no other boats around. A canoe would have been absolutely
fantastic at that point, and the conference center’s ski boat would have been
even better, but the waterfront equipment wasn’t going to be set out for the
day for another half hour or so.
I didn’t know how long
it would be before the ambulance arrived. I looked across the river to where
the guy was still laying in the water. That was too far to swim. Well…maybe?
It was, right? I had never
tried it, but that didn’t mean it was too far. I’d been swimming laps in
the pool; in fact I swam hundreds of yards most weeks, but I never went more
than 25 yards without touching a wall. This was probably only four or five pool
lengths. The guy over there might have a broken back, and if his buddy did
anything crazy, it could have a lasting impact. Before I knew it, I ran up to
the pool and grabbed a big red rescue tube, then ran back down to the river. I
was already wearing swim trunks; I kicked off my shoes and took off my shirt. I
put the rescue tube’s strap across my chest and waded into the water to start
swimming across the river.
No big deal, right? It
was the same thing that I did in the pool. Everything went fine at first. I
swam with purpose, I was confident I could do it, and the adrenaline gave me a
boost. I had swum hundreds of laps in the pool, so I knew to lay as
horizontally in the water as possible, even though it felt unnatural, so I
could streamline my body and reduce the effort I’d need to expend.
But that was in a nice
clear pool, with goggles. There were no lines on the floor here telling me I
was going in the right direction. I had to keep picking my head up to check
where I was, where my destination was, how fast the current was taking me, and
if there were any boats coming. Picking my head up meant my body was more
slanted in the water, so I had to work harder to go the same distance. Without
goggles, the water kept getting in my eyes and I had to squint or miss half a
stroke to wipe my eyes to see again. My feet kept kicking the rescue tube or
the strap it was attached to, so I had to modify my kick. The adrenaline burned
off, and I was in the middle of the river, getting tired and starting to doubt
myself.
I ended up switching
strokes for awhile. I didn’t move very fast, but it helped me rest enough to
resume my previous stroke. After what seemed like forever, I made it to the
other side. I was glad when my feet touched land again and I was able to walk up
out of the water to find out what was going on.
It turns out the guy
hadn’t broken his back or anything quite so severe, but his leg was probably
broken. The river bank was too steep to get him up to the top, especially since
he was a bigger guy and I didn’t have any shoes. The rope swing was on the back
edge of a field. Any emergency vehicles were probably going to have a rough
time finding the dirt road that led to us. I sent the injured guy’s buddy out
to the main road to help the ambulance find us, while I stayed with busted-leg
guy.
The emergency folks
didn’t have all the information they would have liked, so they activated the
swift-water rescue team. Now, my hat’s off to volunteer paramedics and river
rescue folks, because they never know what they’re going to deal with when they
show up to a call. I have to say, though, I was a little amused when a guy in a
life jacket, wetsuit, and a helmet tossed a throw-bag (a rope with a weighted
end) near us as I sat on the shore of a gently flowing river, wearing only swim
trunks, while the water gently lapped our feet.
They got the guy out
and loaded him into the ambulance. They patched him up, and I don’t know what
happened, but I’m sure he was fine after a few weeks on crutches. Thankfully by
the time they were driving off our waterfront equipment was getting set out,
and of all people, my dad came idling up to me in the conference center’s ski boat
to give me a ride home. I was glad I didn’t have to swim back.
What a crazy story. Where
in the world am I going with this? I have three things to elaborate on:
First, no matter who
you are, daunting tasks lay before you. Whether it’s the struggle to make it
through yet another mundane day or fighting against something that threatens to
annihilate your way of life, the choice to either stand on the sidelines and
watch or step forward to get your feet wet is up to you. The road will be hard,
but things God placed in your pathway previously have helped equip you for the
journey.
Secondly, you don’t
have to have all the answers in order to be helpful. I was afraid this guy fell
off a rope swing and broke his back and that I was going to have to deal with
some crazy complicated scenario. I wasn’t an EMT, I was just a teenaged
lifeguard that was trained in CPR and first aid. I don’t think I even had a
driver’s license yet. If the guy had been in real bad shape, the only thing I
had with me was a glorified pool float. I knew more than either of those two
other guys did, though. I may not have done anything to save the day, but by
deciding to wade into the river, I kept things from getting worse. We’ve all
been there. Maybe you see something at work or at church where you know it’s
not going to end well, despite the best intentions of the people involved. If
you see something they don’t, even if you’re not the expert, consider offering
some insight that can keep things from getting worse.
Finally, when God made
you, He broke the mold. While we’re all made in His image, you’re not like
anybody else on Earth. Think about the things that come naturally to you…the
combination of talents, interests, and traits that are unique to you. We’ll
call that unique combination your X factor. In this day and age there is an
urgent need for people to make use of the X factors God gave them. There is
nobody else in the world that possesses the exact same X factor you do. You
might be thinking something like “but you don’t understand…I don’t have a
position of authority…I don’t even talk with that many people…I’m a nobody.”
Let me tell you something: the Bible is full of “nobodys” that chose to get out
of the way and let God put their X factor to good use.
Many, if not all, of us have been given opportunities…opportunities to do whatever it is that we’re best at. It’s one of the greatest gifts a person can receive: a chance to do what you were made to do. Incredibly, many of us put it off. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” or even “next week.” What kind of arrogance is it we have when we assume “the same opportunity God is giving me right now will still be there in the morning”? The only thing you have for sure is right now. If God’s been nudging you to do something, what are you waiting for? It’s time to do it right now. Call that person right now. Stop delaying and set your idea in motion right now. Get it done right now. Wade into the water…right now.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. -Philippians 4:13
At age 15, I started lifeguard classes. The group of us lifeguard trainees had an instructor named Linda. Linda was our teacher for everything from lap swimming to academics, first aid and CPR to practicing hands-on rescue techniques in the pool. There was an enormous amount of material to learn, and she was a very hard instructor. During the course, she learned the weaknesses of all the students in the course, and she would ask us the questions she knew we’d have difficulty answering, both as individuals and as a group.
That was a very strange summer; one of the students was a pastor, and he had a pretty busy schedule. My family took a vacation outside the country for a few weeks, and I also attended a youth convention in Colorado. There were a few other scheduling conflicts too, if I recall correctly. As a result, our training schedule was pretty chaotic and wildly inconsistent. Whenever we convened for our first class in awhile, we had to review what we had learned up until that point. We had to practice the first aid and CPR skills once again. We had to get back in the pool and return to our habit of lap-swimming. All of those “first-in-a-long-time” classes provided opportunities for us to demonstrate how much we forgot or didn’t know.
During the reviews, and then during the regular classes, Linda would pose questions in ways that made you question what you thought you knew about the material. You’d go to blurt out an answer because you thought it was an easy question, but she asked it in a way that made you second-guess yourself. As time went on, though, the material became ingrained in our minds and in our muscle memory. We became confident in our knowledge and our actions, and we were able to face increasingly complex challenges.
Learning and practicing CPR
Linda was a hard instructor, yes, but if I had the choice to go back and do it differently, I would not. I believe that the lessons Linda taught saved lives, and I’m sure that people retained the skills she taught them very well because of the way she did it. I’ll write more about it in a later post, but almost 20 years after I first learned these skills from Linda, long after my certifications had expired, I found myself in a situation where someone’s life depended on me remembering what I learned in those courses. My most recent refresher classes were with a different instructor, but when I needed the knowledge the most, I didn’t think of my most recent refreshers, I thought back to Linda’s instruction. The teachings came flooding back to me, exactly when I needed them urgently, and it’s my belief that I thought of her teaching rather than others’ because of the fervor, the absolute intensity with which the knowledge was drilled into my head, which was a hallmark of Linda’s courses.
If you are a Christian, you have been filled with the Holy Spirit, and are now capable of doing things that you cannot accomplish on your own. You have been commissioned by God to do great things. You can have an impact on an international level if you let Him use you. But as you press on with, or as you begin, this journey, don’t forget the basics. Study God’s word with fervor. Learn from a trustworthy teacher. As you go through your Christian life, you will encounter things that are lies, that are deceptions, and that are downright dangerous. When you find yourself in those situations, your response will come from the training you’ve had and the instruction you’ve received. Reputable Bible teachers, wise and trusted Christian friends, preachers and authors will all have an influence on the way you think and the way you perceive things. In the course of doing great things, don’t neglect these disciplines. You have to remember though, that if you want the answers to be there when you need them most urgently, you have to put in the time up front.
If it’s not your regular practice, dare greatly by cracking open your Bible and by praying to God about what’s on your mind. You might need to get your spiritual house in order before you move on to amazing things.
When I turned 14 my first job was at a Christian Conference Center in eastern Pennsylvania. My parents had worked there my whole life, and I was very familiar with the place, having even lived on the grounds for the first few years of my life. Most of the work I did was odd jobs: mowing lawns, weed whacking, setting up chairs for meetings, and generally the kind of stuff that you can have a 14-year-old do to help a place look nice or get set up for upcoming events. I worked there on weekends and sometimes on weekdays after school, but the busiest time of year was in the late spring and summer.
After I had been working there for a year or so, the recreation manager, Allen, approached me in the spring. He was planning ahead for the upcoming busy summer season, and he was trying to put together enough people to form a class of lifeguard trainees. The idea didn’t really appeal to me, though. I liked playing in the pool as a kid, but the idea of swimming laps and doing all kinds of training, and then sitting in a chair yelling at people to stop running wasn’t something I was interested in. At least with my current job I got to be out of the sun part of the time.
Allen mentioned the idea to me a few more times after that, but I kept turning him down. His final pitch was the most memorable. It was a day of sweaty manual labor. A road around the pool was getting some light posts installed along the perimeter. That meant somebody had to dig a trench between each pair of light posts in order to run a power cable to all of them. I’ll give you two guesses who that “somebody” was, but you’re only going to need one.
I had been swinging a pickaxe and scooping out dirt all morning, and it was hot and humid under the mid-afternoon sun. My shirt was drenched, and I was sore and tired. I had to take breaks more frequently, and sweat was constantly running down my face and getting in my eyes. Along came Allen. He had a little bit of a smirk on his face.
“You see what you’re doing?”
“Uh huh?”
He pointed to a lifeguard sitting at the edge of the pool with her feet in the water, twirling a whistle around two fingers while getting paid to work on her tan.
“You see what she’s doing?”
“Uh huh.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be doing that?”
He got me signed up for the class.
Sometimes you have to go looking for opportunities, and sometimes God plops them right in your path through someone like Allen. None of my reasons for avoiding the opportunity he presented were all that great; I just didn’t feel like doing it. I avoided the opportunity, but it just kept knocking.
You ever have an experience like that? In addition to the way you see how you might be suited for something, others may have some pretty valuable insight, too. If there’s someone in your life that keeps offering you the chance to be a part of a given ministry, but you’ve been turning them down, have you really stopped to ask yourself why? I’m guessing that it’s either because you don’t feel like that’s what you’re meant to do, or because you might feel like it’s a waste of your talents. If that person keeps singling you out, though, consider giving them a chance. They might see potential in you that you haven’t even thought about.
It could be the start of your ministry sweet spot.
