I was probably about 8 years old, with my family on vacation
at Big Bear Lake. My sister and I were playing in an outdoor pool while our
parents watched from the bleachers. Uneasy in the water, a poor swimmer, I suddenly
felt myself out of my depth. But I didn’t want to attract attention to myself.
I hated being in the limelight, so I sort of whispered, maybe a little more
than a whisper, ‘Help!’
I continued to struggle towards the pool’s edge, sinking and
then emerging and stage-whispering, ‘Help!’. My dad was on his feet after the
first whisper. I remember seeing him taking the steps down to the pool two at a
time, and then I managed to grab the side of the pool.
My dad heard the quiet cry for help from his daughter, and
didn’t hesitate.
Neither does our heavenly Father. Peter lost sight of Jesus
and was sinking when Jesus reached out a hand and guided him back into the
boat. I don’t think Peter was whispering his cry for help: I don’t think Peter
was as shy as I was!
The message of that story is, of course, that we sink when
we take our eyes off Jesus. A great message, which spoke to me this morning in
the recollection of that moment in a swimming pool many years ago, which says
more about the response of the Father to the cries of his children.
Our cries for help are always heard and acted on, no matter
how quietly they are uttered. They may be only in our heads, but still our
Father hears them. And is on his way.
I am so grateful for a dad who modelled the love of God to
me. Thank you, Jesus.
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