My heart stopped and panic rose in my chest as I watched the water steadily seep into the boat. The waters were deep and I had never learned how to swim. I was all alone.
The shore was within sight. So close it was almost ironic that I should die here now. Defeat and dread enveloped me as the reality set in that I had no other option. I felt like a child, a whimper and a scream rising in my throat.
Death was imminent.
A slight movement on the shore caught my attention. Three men sat next to each other in a line, lounging in beach chairs. There was a beach bag on the ground next to each man, all with a name sewn into the side. The names were large enough even for me to see. From left to right their names were: Optimism, Pride, and Laziness. They were facing me, but they didn’t seem at all concerned with my predicament. Did they not see me? They all wore sunglasses…maybe their eyes were closed?
Nevertheless, desperate relief mobilized me. I gripped the edge of the boat and leaned forward as I called out to them.
“Hello? Please! Please! Help me!”
They all lifted their heads, but they made no other movement. After a moment, they raised their sunglasses from their sunscreen-covered noses with one hand, craning their necks and squinting through the sunlight to see me.
Optimism asked calmly, “What can we do for you?”
“My boat is sinking and I can’t swim! Please, help me!”
They looked at each other with indifference and lowered their sunglasses back to their noses. Still, they did not move from their seats.
Pride responded. “Of course.”
“We’ll help you get to the shore,” said Laziness. “No problem.”
I was stunned, their inactive manner increasing my anxiety. “Well, what are you doing? Are you going to come out here or what?”
Optimism shook his head. “No need! We have something better for you.”
The water rose above my ankles. Cowering away from my rising death, I spoke more to myself than to the men. “I seriously doubt that.”
Optimism shouted across the water. “Alright, understand that you’re going to go down but you will not drown. You can reach the shore if you just think positively.”
I looked up. “What?”
“Yeah!” he said. “You have to envision yourself reaching the shore to make it happen. Your peaceful thoughts and good attitude will surely save you. Do this and you will find that you can swim after all.”
I stared at him for the crazy man that I knew he was. “Really?” I said, skepticism dripping from my mouth.
“Really! Take my encouragement to heart and you will see.”
Pride scoffed. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
He looked at me and called across the water. “It’s all about your physical ability. Kick your arms and legs. Put in all your strength and effort to do well. Your will power and active attempts will surely save you. Do this and you will find that you can swim after all. Follow my instructions and you will see.”
His advice seemed a bit more practical. Very near rock solid. But I was still frightened. No one had ever shown me how to swim and I had certainly never attempted to do so by myself. I wasn’t sure that I could put it into practice so readily, especially from verbal instruction alone, and succeed.
Laziness shook his head and said to me, “They’re both wrong! Don’t do anything. Just hold your breath and try to stay afloat. Wait for the tide to bring you in or for someone to come along and bring you back. Do this and you will find that you don’t need to swim after all. Take my advice and you will see.”
Wow, he really is lazy, I thought, wearing a puzzled frown.
It was then that the water finally overtook my boat and attention. My panic increased as my security slipped under the surface and sank beneath me. There was no time to think as the water washed over me. Under the surface, I wanted to scream, but I forced myself to hold my breath. I suddenly found myself ready and willing to try a piece of the advice I had just received.
Positive thoughts, I heard in my head. Positive thoughts will save you.
I squinted my eyes shut and gave it my best shot, trying to recall what I had often observed of meditation.
Clear your mind. Think positively. Find the answers within yourself.
I repeated these thoughts, but I only felt myself sink deeper and grow colder. The more I searched within myself, the more I realized that I was just digging further into a confused and frightened mess. Peace and knowledge could not be found because, within me, those answers did not exist. I found very quickly that I could not serve as my own source of strength and wisdom. I could not teach myself how to swim. Optimism could not and would not save me.
In the brief moments it took me to make this discovery, my instinct to fight came out, which happened to follow the advice of Mr. Pride.
Your efforts. Your efforts will save you.
I could not deny that I believed in this method the most. Why shouldn’t my efforts save me? After all, I was the most determined and reliable ally. Who better to get the job done than myself?
Kick your way up. Imitate what you have seen others do. You don’t need anyone else to save you. You can save yourself.
I was encouraged as my body moved upward. My face broke the surface and air charged into my lungs once more. But the spark of enthusiasm sunk like a weight in my stomach and fought to pull me back under. It was all I could do to keep my head above the water. I kicked and I grasped. I fought and I pulled. I was wearing myself out and I was not going to last long. My efforts may have given me a breath, but I was still going to die. I may as well have just given up. Pride could not and would not save me.
That was when I remembered the idea to hold my breath and try to stay afloat. I gasped for a large breath and attempted to brace for a full plunge back beneath. To my surprise, I managed to move in a way that brought my body to the surface. Holding my breath gave me a small amount of rest as I faced the heavens. Lying there seemed to be the answer. I could lie there forever, taking in a new breath any time I needed, to stay afloat until the slow tide or strange passerby could lead me to the shore.
I waited and, though I was still tired, I struggled to make this idea work. Then it occurred to me…what if no one ever came along? What if the tide never brought me in? I turned my face and saw that I was far enough away that the tide would not necessarily bring me to shore in a timely manner or even at all. At this rate, I was sure to go hungry or thirsty. Maybe even resolve myself to exhaustion and allow myself to sink. Give up. I knew then that Laziness could not and would not save me.
As I observed my distance from the shore, I saw the three men leaning back in their chairs, facing the sky with their sunglasses on. They had forgotten all about me. My confusion finally turned into anger. Were they really going to just let me die? Did they expect me to do this all by myself? My motivation returned and I felt the sudden urge to reach them, just to ask them what their problem was.
I turned from my floating position and dropped heavily below the surface. I began to struggle and move again, kicking and reaching. Just in case, I tried to think positively, as well as how I would feel once I reached the shore. Yes, I was following the advice of the men to get me there, but I was sure I would feel much satisfaction knowing that it was my effort that saved my life.
I put all my energy into this last attempt. I could do it. I knew I could.
My perseverance made me last a little longer, but I saw that I was making no progress. I was only growing weaker and more panicked. The more I fought the water, the more I felt my hope shrink away. I knew this was the end.
And yet…somehow, through all my grasping and groaning and gasping, I realized that there was a fourth figure on the shore. Another man. I hadn’t noticed him before or seen where he came from. He stood a couple hundred feet down the shore from the three lounging men, clearly not associated with them at all. He had no beach bag with a name, but he seemed familiar to me. I’m not sure how I could detect any details through all of my splashing, but I could see that his eyes were locked on me, his face full of distress for my well-being.
“Daughter! Daughter!” the mysterious man cried.
Daughter? I thought. But he did not wait for me to answer.
The strange man quickly shed his outer robe and threw himself into the water. Every few strokes, he murmured loud enough for me to hear, “Daughter! Daughter!”
He shot across the water in almost a blink of an eye and then he was there, right by my side. He took hold of my arms for support but paused to say the most peculiar thing. He asked, “Will you allow me to save you?”
I still kicked out of instinct as I held onto him, but his question had distracted me. I blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”
He did not seem irritated with me at all and he was not rude as he repeated his question. He spoke more firmly. “Will you allow me to save you?”
I stared for another brief moment, searching his face for cruel deceit. Oddly enough, I detected sincerity instead and nodded. “Yes, of course! Please, save me!”
And with that, he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me swiftly to the shore. I was amazed at how quickly my rescue occurred. My near-death experience was over in a flash, as though it never happened. When I felt the sand under my knees, I crawled several paces then paused in the surf, panting with my head hanging toward the ground.
His gentle voice lifted my eyes. “Come. Let’s get you covered up.”
His gentle voice lifted my eyes. “Come. Let’s get you covered up.”
He held out his white robe for me. I hesitated, but his inviting smile enticed me. I gratefully moved into the robe, sorry to soil such a beautiful garment with myself, and pulled the soft and thick material close around me, still enjoying the free movement of air coming in and out of my lungs.
When my breathing became regular again, I looked up and caught him staring at me. At first, this unnerved me. His entire character exuded such a vast sense of mystery which, in a bizarre way, struck me with a shock of sheer terror.
But something about his demeanor contradicted my fear.
It was then that I caught a glimpse of…profound tenderness in his features. Pure kindness gleamed from his eyes. Ardent love lined every detail of his face. I didn’t know exactly what to make of him, this rescuer of mine, but as I studied him, no matter how much of an enigma he was to me, I could see the genuine goodness in his smile.
Ironically, I felt extremely safe with him. Safer than I had ever felt in my life. It was strange. The unlikely friendship between my sense of fear and security instigated a paradoxical sensation in me that I had never known before.
He must have sensed my awe of him. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and lifted his other hand to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. His eyes glistened as he released a relieved sigh. “Daughter,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”
I did not expect such a strong and sudden reaction but, almost the very moment these words came out of his mouth, I was crying. Uncontrollably. He pulled me in close and held me as I sobbed. Lamenting that I thought I could have possibly been strong enough to save myself. Coping with the reality that I just very nearly died. Thankful that I was so miraculously saved.
My tears subsided and I pulled back to look up into his own tear-filled eyes.
“Are you going to leave me now?” I whispered.
“Ah…” he shook his head. “…never.”
“Why did you ask to save me?”
He gave me a sad smile. “I have the power to save anyone and I have pulled many from the dark waters. However, believe it or not, when given the opportunity to be saved, many have rejected me and, in their pride, they have perished. I always remain close as they struggle to stay afloat but many reject me for so long that I come back to the shore. I remain ready and willing to jump back in, waiting for them to change their hearts and minds. Some do and some do not. As a rule, I always ask. I am nothing if not polite.”
“Why do you save at all?”
This brought out a sweet smile. “Because I love you and I want you with me always. You are my daughter and you belong with me.”
My throat grew thick as tears threatened to escape from my eyes again.
“You love me,” I said, allowing the truth of these words to sink in. A sense of wonder rose in me as I felt his words ring true in my heart. “You love me. You saved my life and you love me!”
I had been ready to cry again when, instead, bursts of laughter began to dance their way out of my chest. I had never felt so overjoyed! So radiant with delight and amazed with utter gratitude! This man had come for me when all others left me to die. I was alive, breathing, because of this love. A frenzy of hilarity ensued as the glory of his laughter joined mine.
Right then, I knew that there was nothing I could do to repay him. Absolutely nothing. And yet, even though I knew that I could not earn his love or repay him for saving me, I still felt drawn to serve him, anyway that I could. He saved my life! With all the joy and gratitude flowing from me, I was desperate to show him my devotion. My life, then, was all I had to give. It belonged to him now. I belonged to him now.
Him and him alone.
“Please!” I said, taking hold of his arms. “Tell me what I can do for you, my Lord. Anything! Anything at all!”
He gave me an adoring smile, stroking my cheek again. He knew I was not trying to repay him but that I simply loved him and wanted a way to express it.
“This is what you may do. Be my daughter. Let me love you and keep you with me always. Love me in return, trust me because I will take care of you, and obey my word, even when things are difficult. Will you let me love you and will you love me back? Will you trust and obey me? And will you continue to remain faithful and walk with me even when you fail to do these things at times?”
I nodded as I made my sober oath. “Yes.”
He smiled his brightest smile. “Are you ready then?”
“Yes,” I grinned.
He stood and held out his scarred hands to help me up. I stared at the scars for a moment before I took his hands. As I stood, I looked back and noticed the three men still sitting in their beach chairs.
“Why didn’t they save me?”
He shook his head. “They don’t know how to swim either.”
I looked back at them and pondered this for a moment. I wondered why I had assumed that they would help me. Just because they were sitting on the beach, I supposed. They had seemed to be the ones with all the answers.
I realized then that, even if I had been able to reach those men on the shore, I would have felt no love or gratitude toward them as I felt toward my rescuer beside me. They would have never sought a relationship with me, let alone call me a daughter. I surely would have felt compelled to repay them for their advice but any service performed on my part would have been out of duty alone. There would have been no emotional attachment to them, only a sense of legalism, following their rules out of obligation to repay the pesky debt of owing them my life.
Those men, whose names were Optimism, Pride, and Laziness, were empty shells who could not and would not save me. They had expected me to come to them, but a child cannot be thrown into deep waters and taught how to swim with encouragement and instruction hurled out to them. This would lead to certain death.
My rescuer was the only one who actually put forth the effort to come out and get me himself. He did not hesitate and he did not falter. He brought me to himself, to save me when I could not ever save myself. With him, I now had truth, love, and the promise of forever as a daughter. I felt sorry for others who would call upon these men for help and I determined to warn whoever I could. To introduce them to my rescuer, the only one who could save them and who was polite enough to ask.
I turned to my love and returned his smile. Without a word, we turned away from the empty men and started down the beach in the opposite direction. My rescuer took my hand and I, still wrapped in his beautiful robe, followed with pleasure.
Story by Allison Hall
