One of the things we have decided to do to stretch our writing has been to write using prompts, and then get together and critique/discuss each other's responses. So I have been mulling over these prompts for a month now, feeling like I had nothing of interest to write in response to any of them. When God lead me to start this blog, I told Him from the beginning that it would be a mouthpiece for Him, or nothing at all. I would write about things He wanted me to write about, say the things He wanted me to say, and shut up the rest the time. For those of you who know me, you know how very hard that is for me...
One of the writing prompts included a quote from my ALL-TIME favorite fiction book. Or, at least, my favorite book from adolescence, Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. I must have read it 20 times alone in the 7th grade. Here it is:
"'If only there could be an invention,' I said impulsively, 'that bottled up a memory like a scent. And it never faded, never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked and it would be like living the moment all over again.'"The prompt then guides you to discuss which memory you would bottle up and why, and to describe the memory in vivid detail.
I turned this concept over and over again in my mind for a month. Nothing stood out to me; of course there are the typical memories that most people would think of: babies being born, your wedding day, the first time you met your spouse, etc. But God wasn't speaking to me through any of those memories, so I thought, "Well, if God doesn't give me anything to say, then the deal was I wouldn't say anything at all!"
Fast forward to this morning. I was at the YMCA for my kiddos swim lessons, and these were the first lessons ever for my 2-year-old. The instructor wasn't ready yet, so I told my 2- and 4-year-old that they could sit on the steps of the pool until she came over. I pulled a chair up to the edge of the pool and sat there watching them splash around with adorable, infectious, small-child enthusiasm.
After a couple of minutes my littler boy, Graham, stood up on the second step with the water up to his tummy and I guess he lost his balance...he began to float backwards out to the deep water...
He bobbed underneath the water, little arms flailing and little legs kicking. Little chubby fists desperately grasping for something that would hold, that he could use to pull himself up to air. So completely helpless.
This probably went on for a flat 2 seconds, but in my mind, this image is burned. And in my mind, it goes on for an eternity. If you have seen your child struggle to break the surface of the water, you understand what I mean.
I promptly jumped in, fully clothed, with my shoes on, and scooped him up.
He was completely unfazed, which is an endearing characteristic of his, and the swim teacher came over just after that, so I recovered fairly quickly and we went on to the next task.
Then this afternoon, the prompt resurfaced in my mind. But this time, the memory that was fresh on my mind was the memory from this morning. "Lord, why would I want to bottle that memory up?? That's a terrible memory. Why would I want to relive that?" And as I dwelt on those questions, God began to speak.
"Amy, do you remember how you felt when you watched Graham this morning?"
"Yes, Lord, it was horrible. I was desperate, I would have done anything to save him."
"Amy, I watch my children drown every day. I watch them struggle, and flail, and reach out for anything that will save them...and I watch them go under. I watch my own beloved children drown every single day, helplessly, hopelessly."
Heart-broken. That feeling that I had to deal with for a sheer couple of seconds, He deals with every day, all the time, as He watches another of His children spend their lives struggling in pain, only to end up eternally separated from Him.
"Bottle it up, Amy. Relive it. Remember it. When you see those around you, my beloved children, when you see them struggling, jump in. Go all in. Go in with your clothes, your jewelry, your shoes on. Don't hesitate for even a second. Go all in. Just like you did for Graham. That is what I have called you to do as Christians. I will do the saving, you just jump in."
This is the reality of life; they are drowning in a much more consequential way that Graham was. They are drowning in the currents of a life without Jesus. A life without hope, meaning, love, comfort. An unbearable life that will lead to unfathomable pain in the end...
Okay, Lord. When I need to be reminded of how much you love us, and what our mission is here on Earth, I will uncork that bottle. I will relive that memory and remember what you said:
Go all in.
