To Face Your Fear

It was a hot summer’s day at the church camp and Mr. Taylor, the camp leader, had taken everyone for a long hike. They returned with hungry stomachs and were enjoying a delicious lunch when it was announced that after lunch they would take a couple of hours off to go swimming. The group cheered at the news. Only Alan Swanson received the news about swimming with an inward groan.

“Are you going swimming this afternoon, Alan?” Asked Kevin with a sneer.
Alan hesitated. Kevin had been teasing him ever since the last camp. Alan figured he was still irritated from the swim meet last summer when Alan had soundly beaten Kevin in the 100 metres.
“Probably not,” Alan replied, brushing past him.
Kevin grabbed his shoulder. “Why not?” he asked. “You were the only one who didn’t swim yesterday, and you didn’t swim at all at the other training camps. What’s the matter?” the sneer became nastier. “Lost your nerve?”
Alan shook himself free. “Of course not. I can swim better than you can and you know it.”
Kevin’s face lit up. “Prove it!” he cried. “I’ll race you across the river and back. Right now -up at Sandy Beach!” Kevin was practically jumping with anticipation.

Alan shook his head. “I’m not swimming,” he said loudly. Then he pushed past the group of boys and strode towards his tent. As he went, he noticed Mr. Taylor watching him thoughtfully, from the edge of the campsite. He had obviously heard everything.
Alan snatched a good book to read by the river while the rest of them swam. That Kevin was going to spoil everything, he thought angrily, Now that Mr. Taylor knew he wouldn ‘t go swimming, maybe he wouldn’t let him go on their planned back packing trip up by Thunder Bay next week. He wouldn’t appear fit enough.

Alan waited until the entire group had left for Sandy Beach, then he picked his way through the bushes to the river. He chose a sunny, sheltered spot with a soft grassy bank and a tree to lean on.
Soon the warm sunshine and shouts of fun and laughter from the family campsite across the river, eased his angry mood. He had to admit it, he thought, he had lost his nerve. But so would Kevin Rialto if he’d been the one to be caught under the sailboat last summer, he thought defensively.

Alan shuddered. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. It had happened at the end of the summer and was the worst experience of his whole life. He and dad had rented a small sailboat while they were up at Lake Superior. They had been sailing for about an hour when a squall blew up. Somehow they couldn’t get back into the shelter of the bay. The water shipped into a frenzy, churning and boiling, and the waves grew higher and higher. Suddenly a large wave reared up and caught the boat sideways. At the same moment a vicious blast of wind took the sail, and the boat flipped over.

Luckily Alan was wearing his life jacket, and when he bobbed up out of the dark water he was trapped under the upturned boat. He was dazed and winded, and for a few terrible moments panic gripped him. He thrashed about trying to get out.
The memory flooded back to him as clearly as though it had happened yesterday. Thank goodness dad had rescued him. Alan was sure he could never have saved himself But the worst wasn’t over. For the next half-hour they had clung desperately to the boat waiting to be rescued, expecting any moment to be swept away by the threatening waves. Since then, Alan had never swum again.

He pushed the unpleasant sceoe from his mind and started to read his book. Across the river several small children came down to the water’s edge to play. A small rowboat had been hauled up on to the sandy shore and they were climbing in it, pretending they were at sea. As the afternoon wore on Alan began to doze. The warm sunshine and fresh air made him sleepy.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, when urgent cries dragged him back to reality. He sat up and looked all around. The sun filtered through the tall pine trees shading much of the river. All he heard now was the gurgle and splash of the river. He stood up. Had he dreamed it?

Then he heard the cries again. He scanned the river carefully. Downstream a movement caught his eye. There, almost lost in the shade-dappled water, was the rowboat that had been beached across the river. A small boy was standing in it, and the craft was tipping dangerously.

“Mom! Mom!” the child cried, his voice rising in panic.
Somehow the boy had pushed the boat out into the river, and now the current was moving him swiftly downstream. There was no sign of anyone on the other bank.
Alan pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth. “Sit down!” he yelled. “Sit down in the boat! I’m coming to get you.”

Without another thought he splashed into the water. For a moment as the water washed over his head, a feeling of panic rose in his throat. The terror he’d felt then, as the waves swirled around him, returned, and threatened to swamp him. He surfaced, and the child’s terrified cries swept away his nightmare memories.

In a few moments of strong swimming he reached the boat. The child was sitting down now, crying softly and clinging to the sides. Alan spoke to him in a calm voice, and gradually the crying stopped.
“Now you stay sitting there, and we’ll be back on the shore right away,” Alan said. He grasped the stem of the boat and began to kick, pushing the boat ahead of him.

By the time he reached the other shore, out of breath and legs aching, several adults were waiting. The child began to cry again, as his mother scooped him into her arms. Alan flopped onto the bank, getting his breath back.
Then he heard someone call him from the other side of the river. His camping group was back from swimming. Alan jumped up, waded out into the river again, and swam over to them.

“We just got back when we heard the commotion,” someone said. “That was quite a rescue.”
Alan was embarrassed. “It was nothing,” he said. “You’d have done the same if you’d been here.”
Then Mr. Taylor stepped forward. “I’d say it was a pretty courageous thing to do, for someone who nearly drowned in a boating accident last year.”

Alan looked at him in amazement. “You knew?” he said.
Mr. Taylor nodded. “Your father told me all about it, soon after it happened. I guessed why you wouldn’t join us when we went swimming. But I wasn’t worried. I knew a fine swimmer like you would come through when it really counted. You’ll be a great asset to our back packing trip.”

At that moment Kevin Rialto came up. “Say,” he muttered, “I’m sorry for teasing you this afternoon. Tell us what happened last year, when you nearly drowned.”
“Yes,” the others begged, “tell us about it.” And Alan found himself surrounded by admiring friends.
“I can do all things through Christ which strengthened me.” Philippians 4:13,

Dear God, some things in my life seem to need special help from you. Please give me your strength in overcoming them. Thank you for not leaving me to face the hard things alone.