I was about 6 years old and I still remember it vividly. I was at my aunt’s apartment with my brother and my mom. We were swimming in the outdoor pool that was there. It was a sweltering, sunny, summer day in Albuquerque. I was sitting in an inflatable yellow donut thing that had a seat with legholes down in the middle of it so you could sit any direction. I thought, “Hey what if I flipped in this thing!? That would be so cool!” So, I tried. The problem is, my six year old mind couldn’t process the rest of the skills that go into flipping…like the other 50% of the flip that gets you back up into glorious air. While I was sitting [halfstuck in the too small legholes] I hoisted myself back and forth until I had done it. I had flipped myself over. Triumph only lasted a very quick second and then the problem quickly was made clear. I was still too little to flip myself and the buoyant donut back over. Oh man did I start panicking. I started thrashing around, legs kicking straight into the air, fingers grabbing on to the water (aka absolutely nothing) to try and flip over, all to no avail. I remember clearly that I was in the corner of the pool because I had used the corner of the wall to flip but it suddenly betrayed me in assisting the rest of the flip. Darn wall. I obviously did manage to flip over and live the next 17 years of my life to be here and write this blog, however I thought in that moment, in my dramatic little 6 year old mind that I was a gonner. And it would all end with my mom sitting on the side of the pool chatting with my aunt completely unaware. I thought I would simply perish in an upside down yellow floating donut and that’s what would be remembered of my short 6 year old life. Now, my mom swears she saw it happen and that I was only upside down for a few seconds but lets be honest, it may well have been 6 year old Rachel in the middle of the Pacific ocean by herself, upside down, not breathing for 30 minutes.
Clearly when I resurfaced I was traumatized. I will never forget what it felt like not being able to breathe, thrashing around, oddly quiet, and my imminent death looming over me. It was terrifying. I was so mad at my mom for not saving me the instant I went under. Through my tears of joy, my coughing spasms of regurgitating water, and my anger at my mom, I declared that I was officially done swimming for the day. Obviously my mom didn’t have much convincing to do to get a six year old back in the pool for the rest of the afternoon, but in my mind I held my reserve with valiant honor.
I’m sitting in the car driving to launch for the World Race. I’m driving with my family from Albuquerque to Atlanta and my tooshie is numb. I’m 6 ft tall sitting in the backseat of a Ford Fusion with my best friend/sister while my parents listen to cds of hits from the 60s and 70s. And what does God bring up in my mind, but that incident of being upside down in a stupid yellow floating donut. Why??
I keep staring out the window and feeling like absolutely not one moment of this is real. There is no way I’m on my way to launch for almost an entire year away from the family and city I’ve never been away from for more than 6 weeks. There’s no way I actually packed up my room for the first time in 23 years. There’s no way that I lost one of my best friends in preparations for this journey. There’s no way that I’m going to be in India by this time next week.
I’m feeling that sense of drowning inside as I look at this whole situation. I feel like the Lord has poured himself out on me and my life so abundantly that there’s not much left to breathe in, except him. Why is this a bad thing? Well it’s not really. But a few moments ago I came to a sobering reality that I really haven’t spent time with my Lord in these last few days/weeks of prep. I totally became a Martha and busied myself to the point of stressful exhaustion and illness. I busied myself and left the presence of God. I think I did it out of a place of feeling overwhelmed by the goodness of God. I couldn’t process his goodness and the new reality that he is slowly making my new life. I felt like because I don’t deserve His goodness and because it was so overwhelming, I needed to (subconsciously) take it all back into my own hands..the place where I could wrap my mind around things.
And yet, God keeps pouring. He keeps abundantly blessing me and revealing himself. He continues to walk me through everything that is unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and scary right now. Which is completely everything.
I’m not really sure that it is natural for us to drink in God’s goodness without feeling like we’re drowning. Scripture says that while we were still sinners he died for us so we could be reconciled back to him. While our natural response was/is to do our own thing, he still pursued us and made a way to have an intimate and scandalous affair of grace and love with us. It isn’t natural for us as humans to simply accept and partake but that’s what makes it incredibly beautiful. It’s one of the only things he asks us to do in the whole reconciling thing. Accept it. Partake. Drink it in and share.
God drowned me in his grace. In his glory, his scandalous love, and intimate knowledge of me. He overwhelmed me with incredible plans that are blowing my mind and are barely beginning to unfold. And then, because he is a good, good Father, He laughed with joy that is saturated with love. Because that’s the kind of God he is.
“And Your love, in wave after wave, crashes over me. For You are for us, You are not against us. Champion of heaven you made a way for all to enter in. You make me brave. You make me brave. You called me out beyond the shore into the waves. You make me brave. You make me brave. No fear can hinder now the love that made a way.”
-Bethel, “You Make Brave”
