An unexpected helper
I watched something really touching yesterday at a neighborhood pool party.
Our friends have a pool with a diving board, and the kids (+ a couple of dads) were all taking turns jumping into the water. One dad walked a little girl up to the diving board line, strapped tightly in a pink life jacket with purple goggles suctioned to her eyes. She looked ready.
Her dad jumped into the water first so he could be there to catch her. Her turn came, and the inched her way to the front of the diving board, her steps getting smaller and slower toward the end of it as she saw a clear view of the water below.
Despite all the encouraging words from her dad, assuring her that he was there to catch her, the little girl let out a small squeak and hurried back to the other end of the diving board, then down the ladder.
About 15 minutes went by, and the same setup happened: Dad walks with daughter and shows her how he jumps in, then it's daughter's turn. This time, she walked a little faster toward the end of the diving board. She crouched down and almost jumped in, but then got spooked and again scurried back toward the ladder.
Before she could walk back down the ladder, another dad walked up and asked her if she'd like some extra help. She nodded, and he got up on the diving board with her. Slowly and steadily, they walked back toward the end and we could tell that she was feeling very nervous.
Then something very tender happened. The dad on the diving board grabbed the little girls hands and let her wrap her hands around his pointer fingers, kind of how it looks when a parent helps a baby walk. He whispered something in her ear, then counted down: "3 -- 2 -- 1."
He didn't swing her or push her or launch her off of the diving board. Instead, he gently lowered her from the diving board into the arms of her father who was in the pool, waiting to catch her.
Her face lit up with a huge grin, and she was ready to try again.
She zipped up to the diving board line, and when it was her turn she made her way down to the edge of the diving board -- this time with much more confidence than the last. She hesitated slightly, then committed and jumped into her father's arms in the pool.
She came out of the water beaming. Now she could be a diving board kid!
The difference between where she started and where she ended up was huge. The height of the diving board didn't change; her confidence did, because of that simple and loving guidance from the other dad.
I feel like that's what Jesus does for us. He stays with us right to the very edge, and then grabs us by the hand and gently guides us where we want to go until we reach the point where we've experienced enough to grow our confidence and abilities. He knows we are strong enough to do it, and he stays with us until we know it, too.
Accepting His help doesn't mean we're weak or chicken; it means we're humble enough to know that the first couple of times are going to be wobbly and terrifying, and that we can use all of the support we can get from One who has already been there.
