My lifesaver

I have to share this story... It happened to me yesterday while camping, and I'm not sure if I'll ever forget it... I hope you receive the same spiritual lesson from it as I did.

For anyone not familiar with recent weather patterns, it's been raining a rather large amount in our area lately, more than enough for the creek water to be up when we went camping this weekend. It was beauty to our eyes, and only one thing on our minds - white water rafting! The boys tested the smaller rapids on Thursday as I cooked up dinner - it was a little too cold for me this afternoon, and probably good, as the water was a little dangerous. But with the following morning came a foot or two less water. So, being a bit safer but still fun, I gladly followed the boys in the truck to our destination. Loads of fun, and well worth the chillingly cold water that made it impossible to feel any limbs upon return to land.

So, after so much fun two days previous, we decided to try again, and still further upstream - say a good two hours "float" from camp. As we make our decent from the bridge into water, we realise that just up ahead is a huge log across the water leaving little gap to float underneath. Wayne and Joe take the lead, with Ashlyn close behind, and Glen and myself taking the rear. Everyone gets under fine, then I reach the log. With a split second, I crash into it, flip backwards, struggle for a quick breath, and am pushed under. I emerge the other side of the log, a little shaken up, but nothing much to worry about. I jump back on, and we're off and racing again.

We continue on for another 20 minutes or so, until we reach another rapids - seemingly the same as the last few we've gone through. But as we enter it, Ashlyn is pushed to the right, slammed into a large branch, and flipped off her tube - still managing to continue down safely without it. However, without any time to stop, I too am slammed into the branch, flipped over, and pushed under water. Sadly, I'm not as lucky to continue without my tube safely. Having been pushed backwards and flipped over, I continue to do summersaults through the waist deep water, hitting each rock and branch as I go. Barely able to catch some breath, I scream for help, but what can they do? Even I can't get myself upright...

I honestly can't remember how I stopped myself - perhaps I didn't. After tumbling a few times, the next thing I remember is standing up and holding onto a huge log, Glen floating passed me. Thinking my help is gone, I start feeling terrified. But, with determination, he stands, turns, and _walks through the rapids back to me_. I can barely stand, and wonder how he can walk. He walks behind me, breaking the current for me to be able to slowly get to the bank. There I sit, shake, and cry. I'd never been so terrified. The feeling of being pushed through rushing water, with absolutely no control, and struggling to grab some breath - I just can't write it.

Wayne and Joe make their way back through the bush to find us still sitting on the bank. Convincing me that the quickest way back to camp is through the water, I slowly climb back in the tube, trusting that Glen has control of it. With Wayne leading the safe way down, I kick off and follow, hardly daring to look where I go. Glen follows close behind, while losing air from his own tube. It's not long before he has to share mine, as we hobble home through the water.

With fear of being pulled backwards, I nearly screamed as Glen tried to jump on the back of it. So for my safety, he simply held on to the back, which meant he exposed the lower half of his body to the dangerous rocks as we travelled through the rapids. It seemed he came out with more bruises and bumps than I did.

What seemed an eternity later, we came to another spot with a huge log, but no room to go under it. To get through, you would have to stop at the log, climb over, and keep going, all through terribly fast moving water. Too terrified to face it, I begged Glen to walk me around the bank through this spot, which he agreed to. However, we stopped and waited to watch the others go down. Wayne went down first, slammed into the log, and went under. I literally started crying as I saw him finally emerge, bleeding from his head. I felt like I was in a nightmare - though, I'm sure my fear made things feel a million times worse than it truly was. We made our way to the bank, and to what felt like peaceful safety.

Fastforwarding through more water, we eventually got off near camp, and walked home. I asked Glen to finish the trip with the guys, and I would walk home. Still he wouldn't leave my side, always walking in front of me to make sure of my safety. I'd never felt so terrified in my life as when I was in that water, but never so safe as when Glen was leading me. Walking back, I started thinking of the events that had happened, and the Spiritual significance...

Life can be likened to the water. It has its calms and its rapids, its deeps and its shallows, its wides and its narrows. At some point in our lives, we come to a "rapid". This can hold temptation, trial, sorrow, or anything that tears us from God. We fight against it, but it's useless, the pull is too strong, and eventually it takes us with it in whatever direction it chooses. We fall off our raft of safety and into the cold dark waters. We stumble and tumble, we trip and we fall, and often will hit against the many rocks life throws on our path. These are our mistakes, our shortcomings. Somehow, we manage to stand for just enough time to call for help. Thinking our last hope has just floated away, we despair and think all is lost. But, Christ leaves His comfortable place in heaven, His safety, and comes to where we are. He walks the distance we can't, and breaks the tide for us so we can walk to safety. He walks the path before us, and bears the pain to lessen ours. We make it to the bank, and realise our weakness, and cry. We see the bruises in our flesh, and the pain in our hearts, and fear going any further. But He whispers "it's the only way to safety." Pulling together our broken pieces, and trying once again, we make it down slowly, limping home, back to where we should never have left. But this time, we're not alone. Every step of the way He's right there leading us. He's the One behind and before, taking all the bangs, all the pain, all the bruises. He bore the pain so we don't have to. He never leaves our side, not even for a moment, cause His first priority is our safety, no matter the cost. He doesn't let go until we're home safely, and even then, He still bears the marks that remind us both of what we've gone through together.

It seems like our hearts are broken, just as, right now, my body is bruised and sore. But what we never realise is how much Christ took for us, and the pain He bore to keep us safe and afloat. If only I realised more what both my earthly, and heavenly guardians bear for me - I'd probably complain much less.

It mightn't seem like much, but to me it felt like life and death - and a lesson I'll never forget.