Corban and Elliott were up first. Like old pros at this game of swim lessons, they strapped on their goggles, kicked off their shoes and went to work. I held Anna on my lap, and we cheered on the boys as they were schooled in the art of swimming.When their half-hour lesson was over, it was Anna's turn. This was the first swimming lesson she had ever had. With a bit of apprehension, she made her way over to the steps, and with great bravery, she did what her teacher asked and required -- until it came time to put her face into the water.
The cries emanating from her four-year-old lungs echoed off the walls of the pool area.
I went over, knelt beside her and emncouragingly told her that she could do this. Her teacher (a veteran at teaching swim lessons to young children, with the bite marks on his arm to prove it) gently but firmly encouraged her. He would not allow her to give up.
After much coaxing, her face went in as she bent to the wishes of her mom and teacher.
But the crying did not stop.
From a few feet away, I kept encouraging her.
But the crying grew louder.
She was now standing outside the pool.
"MOMMYYYYYYYYY! MOOOOOOOMYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
I walked over to her and guided her back to the pool. I asked her teacher what would be best for me to do -- stay and encourage or walk out of line of sight. He suggested I leave line of sight.
So, I did.
Corban and Elliott were greatly distressed.
"Mommy, Anna's crying," voiced a concerned Corban.
"I know, sweetheart, but she needs to learn this. Come over here where she can't see you."
Like three traumatized little birds, Corban, Elliott and I huddled just out of Anna's line of sight. For a half an hour we listened to her cry for her mommy. The only time she took a break from her crying was when she would shakily comply with her teacher's request to float with his hand beneath her back or to hold onto the wall and kick her feet or to dip her ear into the water.
And then the crying would begin again.
My heart felt like a writhing snake trapped inside my rib cage.
----
As soon as the lesson was over, the three of us rushed over to her. I wrapped her up in a towel and held her.
"You DID it, sweetheart! You DID it! You were so scared, but you DID it! I am so very proud of you! You were so brave!"
Elliott bee-lined for her teacher and told him that tomorrow he needed to start with the easier things and work up to the harder ones. (Yep. My six-year-old was instructing a 30-year-old on how to give swim lessons.)
Corban knelt down in front of Anna and took her face into his hands. Gently, he turned her face toward his and said, "Nan, you are okay. You're okay, Nan. You're safe. You are okay."
Elliott came back over and told Anna that he had fixed the problem and told her teacher how to teach class tomorrow.
----
As I was loading a calm but heart-raw Anna into her car seat, I asked, "Nan, what was the scariest part of all that?"
With a shaky voice, she said, "Putting my face into the water."
"Yes, that is scary, isn't it?"
"But also," she quivered, "it was scary that I was calling for you and calling for you and that you did not come."
A bomb of mom-grief went off in my chest. *groan* What could I say? How could I explain?
Then, in a torrent, pouring from my mouth came, "Oh, sweetheart! I heard you. I heard every time that you called my name. Mommy was there the whole time. I never left for even a moment. Every time you cried, every time you called for me, I heard. But I could not come to get you. This lesson was one that you had to learn. It broke my heart to hear you crying, to see you so scared, but I knew that this was important, so I had to let you learn it, even though it was making my heart hurt to see you so scared and so sad."
----
I pray that I don't forget this moment when the Lord spoke to both Anna's heart and my own.
Those times when I cry out for release, when I pray fervently for a change of path, when I seek light desperately and only see darkness, when I feel alone and can't see His face. During those times, I will pray for a heart that can remember this moment, for a heart that can hold onto the truth that He is working for my best no matter how scared I am, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how little sense it all makes.
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Today, Lord, touch my heart. I am standing in Anna's place of panic and doubt. Touch my core and remind me that I'm not alone, that You're working. Remind me that even when I can't see Your face, that you are closer than my breath.
And when the time is right, please come and wrap me up in a great big towel and hold me close and whisper truth to my heart.
