The Power of Prayer

We have always taught our kids that they can pray about anything and God will answer them.

Help. Comfort. Guidance.

On our travels home from visiting family, my daughter was feeling frustrated because she was feeling like she wasn't getting an answer to her prayers.

As we were discussing this, my 9 year-old pipes into the conversation.

"Well, Kyla. I think I wasted all my praying power on my Lego. I lost it and then I prayed and found it. And then I lost it again and prayed and found it. Like 10 times. But then the last time I lost it, I prayed and I couldn't find it. I think my praying power is all wasted."

I guess we need to teach him that the power of prayer is more like the energizer bunny....

...it just keeps going.

It happened in the water

There are times when things happen in our lives that cause such terror that no matter what, they will never be erased from your memory.

This was one of these times.

I will call it, "The Time Dad Tried to Drown Me."

As you can imagine some of the details are very vague or have been repressed to some degree. I was really small and I remember a hotel and a swimming pool.

 

I do remember a brown water slide very clearly. It wasn't a big slide. Just the size of your regular, everyday brown water slide. But I remember wanting very much to go down it.

Problem was, I couldn't swim.

I watched as sister after sister went down that chocolate slide. Sherri. Angie. I remember Michelle and Tammy going down it together.

And there I sat. In the shallow end. On the cold steps. All alone. (As alone as one can be with 7 siblings also in the pool.)

 

My dad must have noticed my longing.

He came and got me and together we walked to the source of the ultimate in swimming pleasure: The Slide.

"Now, you hold on to my neck real tight. And I will hold on to you," Dad explained.

Seemed simple enough.

Up we climbed. I sat on him lap. And down we went.

If you have ever been little and tried to hold on to a wet man's neck while crashing into a wall of water you will understand that it is near impossible.

If you have ever been a grown man and tried to hold onto a slippery, wet, squirming child while crashing into a wall of water, you will understand how my dad tried to drown me.

Okay, so technically I slipped out of his arms. But from my perspective, he didn't hold up his end of the bargain...quite literally. Neither did I, but from my perspective, it went like this:

 

HE LET GO!!!

In the deep end.

And I couldn't swim.

Deep down under the water I went. It was an eternity to the surface of the water...an impossible distance given the amount of oxygen I had in my lungs. (Yeah, I know hotel pools are only 6 feet deep, shhhhh. You're ruining the story. Whose side are you on anyway.)

I kicked. I flapped. I believe I screamed.

And then I breathed.

BIG MISTAKE.

Then, just when I thought all was lost, all hope was gone, and I was ready to surrender to a watery grave.... a pair of strong hands grabbed me and brought me to the surface.

Sweet oxygen filled my lungs. I had survived. I was alive!!

 

I turned and looked at my dad with terror in my eyes.

"Wasn't that fun?' he asked. "Do you want to go again?"

The shallow steps never sounded so good.

What's your water story?