Too Deep to Stand

When my nephew first arrived in Australia he wasn’t used to the sea. It was cold and full of mysterious and frightening things – slimy sea weed and fish and spiky anemones and seals. He refused to go in.

That was a few years back. Now he is six.

Yesterday we went in off the front beach. Me in a snorkel, him in swimming goggles. He swam where I led, out of his depth and over rocks covered in all sorts of things I would be reluctant to put my feet down on.

I pointed to fish as I saw them and he looked, came up to breathe, and then lowered his head to see more. He wanted to stay in forever but was becoming cold so we went in. He stood on the beach, shivering and wrapped in a towel and asked when he would be warm enough to go in again.

Today he mustered up the courage to go in with a proper snorkel for the first time and came out talking excitedly about fish.

It no easy thing to learn to snorkel. It is strange breathing through a tube. And the sea is risky.   There are big sting rays where we went in.  And always the possibility of sharks.

Today a dead grey nurse shark larger than me, hook in its mouth, washed up on the same beach. It required great trust to go out beyond his control and in complete dependency into an entirely unfamiliar situation.

But it opened up a whole new world.

I was touched at his trust in me and excited for his future.

Snorkelling has opened up an entirely new magic kingdom full of improbable fish and brightly coloured weed, sting rays and seals and swimming in a lattice of light for me.It is an easy joy.

But life isn’t, always.

I keep finding myself way out of my depth, in difficult situations I haven’t experienced before and don’t know how to deal with.I get frightened. And there are times I have been sure I am going under. I don’t know why life has to be quite so hard.

I have also found the most difficult times bring the bible alive. The Psalms become vivid. Jesus is ever more comforting and ever more impressive (how did he keep going in the midst of such threat?) Paul’s letters, most particularly 2 Corinthians, read like they were written particularly for me. And in my darkest times the book of Job reads like the one true voice that brings hope.

The great God folk have been way out of their depth before me.

And I have also found that, when I desperately need him, God is there in a whole other way.