I passed Adult 1 swim class recently.
I was exhausted and my muscles ached all over, but I can now do the back crawl for about 12m and the front crawl for 10m (with the world's worst form). But all the bullets have check marks and I have the beginnings of a life skill I have pined over for almost thirty years. Now I have to practice over the spring and summer, before I forget to point my toes, relax my knees, keep my hips close to the surface, fully extend my arms, keep my ear pinned to my shoulder when I turn to breathe, breathe and not drink, all at the same time. It's so automatic and instinctual for all the young kids on the other (deep) end of the pool, but we adults have so much fear laced in this whole process that tying all that together is so difficult.
At one point while trying to perfect my back crawl, my rising right arm splashed water onto my face, breaking my momentum and opening the door to flailing panic. Staring hard at the ceiling, my mind switched to the scene of Jesus asking Peter to step onto the water. In the second half of that instant, I realized something. Get a grip Leah, you're learning to swim on your back in four and a half feet of water at a community pool in the 'burbs, with two qualified lifeguards nearby. Save your nerves for the heavy stuff, for, well, Peter's sake.
So, when our instructor suggested we go into the deep end for the final five minutes, I yawped YES. And then when he said the life jackets aren't out and do you want to try jumping in without them, I swooshed my foot down in the water and declared yes once again.
And in I went.
There's something about my time in the deep end that is making me want to go back. A kind of freedom, albeit for only about five seconds at a time. There's no floor immediately below andit feels mysterious-therefore-scary but exciting and warm and enveloping all at the same time. Plus I had my two child leader-lifesavers standing by, telling me as I'm launching off the big foam island thing to go for it. If young J and A had my trust for my survival at 7:58 on Sunday night, then surely I could try harder to place it in God's irrefutably more capable hands for the bigger and bolder.
“Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”” (Mark 9:24 NKJV)