Reaching for Air

“Save me! Save me! Save me!” As you probably know this is a cry for help. Rarely do we hear or say these words. Only in an emergency. Those that hear this on a regular basis are 911 callers. Pastors, Parents, Lifeguards…. And they are all calling for someone to save them; A savior.
I’ve been a savior before. I can say that… but it wasn’t all that big of a deal. I don’t stand around thinking about how good of a person I am, or Ty Pennington isn’t standing outside ready to give me a new house. It actually didn’t feel all that good. I almost died in the process. The feelings associated with saving someone else’s life sometimes aren’t as patriotic as the firefighters of 9-11.
In the initial stages of my prime awkward years I was down in California. And I got to experience something that, within my 8th grade existence, was out of my dreams. You see, six months previous, I had been exposed to a movie that changed my entire life focus. It changed my priorities, my view of my life, my purpose, it even changed my language. My Uncle Brian from L.A. spoke to me on the phone and then when transferred to my mother asked her why I had a Southern Californian accent? “Oh that’s not the half of it;” she said “he’s talking like that, he’s started cutting up his clothes and making new ones, and he has picked up the electric guitar and says that he’s going to align the planets with music.” Apparently I was taking the movie “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure” a little too seriously. Regardless, I was excellently tickled when we got to California and my Bill and Ted’s lifestyle could be enhanced with a trip to the water park. I had never been to one, and looked forward to it since I had seen Napoleon enjoy the monumental slides that shot you skipping across the water, to only pull the wedgee out of your butt and yell… “That was excellent!”
My older sister was in charge… which was nothing new (she perfected the role of “boss” at age 6). My parents weren’t with us. Instead, we were with my sister’s boyfriend, Eric, who was a Senior in High School, and his brother, Graham, who was two years younger than me.
After we had had our fill of most of the hydro tubes… or at least the lines, we saw a site that looked super fun. The Wave Pool! We saw tons of people enjoying the man made waves and said that this was for us. I guess there were a couple things that my Middle School mind should have picked up on…. We ran out into the pool which stops every seven minutes because, supposedly, that is the amount of time someone can be underwater without brain damage. That should have been my first clue. Secondly, we all swam out there and of course we went to the deep end because we wanted to be where the big waves were. Yet, all around us were people in inner tubes. Relaxing and having fun. After treading water for about five minutes we were getting excited…”It’s about to start!” And sure enough it did. The huge ceramic arm began its movement and the waves got crankin’. I would say 5-7 foot swells. Pretty cool. Weeeeee. Weeeee. Weeeee. Like most carnival rides, the idea of the ride seems to be much more fun than the actual ride. So after the 6th or 7th swell …we were bored. Welcome to the life of an 8th grade attention span. For us, it was time to go in. So we start swimming. And 3 minutes later, we aren’t anywhere closer to shore. All of us began to understand what the reality of undertow means. A little more panic enters the scene, as we all try to swim a little harder; to no avail. Not being a strong swimmer, but being a clever one, I realize that the bottom isn’t that far down… so I start bouncing off the bottom at an angle to shoot myself forward. This lets me gain some forward movement. At this time, I am exhausted from swimming…Bouncing seems to be less taxing. During one of my breeches, I look to my right and see Graham still struggling behind me. And, at this point, calling for help. Well, I scanned for possible help … and I looked over at Baywatch on the sidelines… It seems as though slathering sunscreen and flirting with the other lifeguards takes priority to saving my sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s life. I had to think fast.
At this point I believe I was well on my way to becoming an Eagle Scout, and though I did get my swimming merit badge, I did almost drown in the ice cold lake when it came to inflating my jeans around my neck. However, I guess Scouts instilled some bravery within me, so I took a deep breath and turned back and began bouncing toward Graham. I really don’t know if this is a technique, if it is, it wasn’t covered in the handbook. But I would take a breath, bounce down to the bottom, jump as hard as I could, throw Graham forward, and repeat. Finally we made it to the 4 feet mark and we all staggered in exhausted. And there I was, the 13 year old savior of Graham.
Thank you. Thank you… Oh it’s nice to be savior. You get all the accolades. You get all of the stained glass. But what if you need a savior… what if you have to dial 911. What if you have to call out, “Save me!” How embarrassing.
Yeah…waves and I don’t do well. Nine years later I needed a savior. It was 1997 the year of El Nino. Which in Spanish means, “The Nino”. It just so happens that I was on the shores of Southern California. And Surfing class was canceled due to the 10-15 foot swells. Class was just beginning, and I had just purchased an amazing wetsuit that was red. I felt like Spiderman and I didn’t know how the suit worked. I needed to try it. I never had a wetsuit on in the water, and I was thinking that perhaps my swimming life would be different if I wasn’t so cold. (Perhaps I could even inflate my scout jeans.) Our surfing instructor cancelled class because he thought we might not be able to handle the waves, but more he wanted to be the first out riding the powers of El Nino. But he offered to have us watch on the sidelines. Boring!
My friend, Kristina Bowis, hops in the water and tells me come on in. I had to try out my wetsuit, so like a Christmas child, excited, I enter the water. First cold… then… hey…. I just have cold tootsies. Total fun! The beach we were on was full of sharp rocks on the bottom, so we quickly went out where we couldn’t touch. And before we knew it, we were at the break-line--where the waves crash. Kristina sees a big wave coming and she tells me, “Here we go…” And we swim under it. Another big wave coming. She says “Here comes another”. Duck … and another duck. OK after the 6th one I start to get a little tired. And your mind does odd things when you’re tired and dodging things that have the potential to kill you. I tell Kristina that I’m going back.
At which point I turn around and instead of ducking under the wave that is about to crash. I actually take it full on. CRASH! I wrestle my body up to the surface. And I breathe once before another CRASH! Wriggling my body against El Nino!! I found my breaths shortening. The only way I could swim was on my back so I could keep breathing. Crash after crash I found myself sputtering and gasping in my panic. I thought of bouncing but I knew the floor was too deep. I remember seeing the shore 40 feet away and realizing that I wasn’t going to make it. I kept swimming for, I don’t know how long, in panic, the waves continued to crash and my heart and body was doing all it could to survive. Finally I felt the sharp rocks on the sea floor slicing my feet. The idea of tetanus and lockjaw never felt so good in my life. I placed all my weight on those sharp rocks and pushed off closer and closer to shore. I essentially re-enacted that movie scene where the guy staggers up on shore and as the wave hits him in the back, he crawls up exhausted.
I was a mess. Emotionally, physically exhausted. My classmates witnessed my ugly cry--Snot and saltwater coming out of my nose. Kristina had followed me in, and sat opposite me, like a counselor and in a cheery voice said, “For a minute there I thought I was going to have to save you.’ I didn’t know this but, it turns out Kristina was a life guard all summer the year previous. I sat there and contemplated my death. The thing that I kept saying was, “I didn’t even have enough breath to call for help… I didn’t even have enough time to pray.”
Have you ever had to fight for your life? To rely on someone else to save you? I was noticing on that shore once my adrenalin leveled off how sweet the air was when you know you are safe?
A friend of mine was talking to me the other day about some not so sweet smelling air. He was talking about the spiritual air that changes when certain people enter the room. Not B.O. or people with spiritual flatulence… I don’t even know what that would be. We were talking about those people that tend to enter into the room and immediately everybody’s actions change. The boss that enters the room and everybody looks busy. If I were to wear a Priest’s collar… and walk into the bar… would people change their language? The bumper sticker reads … “Jesus is coming, everyone look busy.” My friend described this person as big broad-shouldered, Mr. Should. When Should enters the room, everybody realizes what they should be doing. (muttering:) Oh man I need to be doing this I know I should be doing that.
Mr. Should does himself no favors either. “Shoulding” on everybody. Breathing the spiritual air of judgment. When he enters the room, he immediately thinks autobiographically applying whatever he learned in the past to your life. “This is what I did so this is what you SHOULD do. I know what you did wrong… You SHOULD do it right.” As long as there is a Mr. Should around, there are always people evading him. You don’t call them unless you’re in a good place. “I’m doing fine Mr. Should.” You don’t like being around them unless you have to.
John Bunyan the Author of A Pilgrims Progress wrote an allegorical tale of a man called “Christian” who went on pilgrimage to the Celestial City. At one point, he meets his buddy,” Faithful” who was telling him of his journey. See if you can recognize Mr. Should:
FAITH. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound. I told him that I am a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, "Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall give thee?" Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit. Eph. 4:22 I asked him then what was his work, and what the wages he would give. He told me that his work was many delights; and his wages that I should be his heir at last. I further asked him what house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me that his house was maintained with all the dainties in the world; and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked if he had any children. He said that he had but three daughters: The Lust of the Flesh, The Lust of the Eyes, and The Pride of Life, and that I should marry them all if I would. 1 John 2:16 Then I asked how long time he would have me live with him? And he told me, As long as he lived himself.
CHR. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last?
FAITH. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there written, "Put off the old man with his deeds."
FAITH. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave. So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and told me that he would send such a one after me, that should make my way bitter to my soul. So I turned to go away from him; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pulled part of me after himself. This made me cry, "O wretched man!" Rom. 7:24 So I went on my way up the hill.
Now when I had got about half-way up, I looked behind, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle stands…
But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so. He said, "because of my secret inclining to Adam the First"; and with that he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward; so I lay at his foot as dead as before. So, when I came to myself again, I cried him mercy; but he said, "I know not how to show mercy"; and with that he knocked me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him forbear.
CHR. Who was that that bid him forbear?
FAITH. I did not know him at first, but as he went by, I perceived the holes in his hands and in his side; then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill.
CHR. That man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none, neither knoweth he how to show mercy to those that transgress his law.
FAITH. I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met with me. It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me he would burn my house over my head if I stayed there.
Mr. Should in this case is Moses; drowning us in his dos and don’ts. I was noticing as I was thinking of Mr. Should, really, if Mr. Should walked into the room and I sniffed the judgment in the air… and all of the sudden started muttering “I should do this I should do that… I need to look busy….” I was noticing that it wasn’t Mr. Should that was doing the muttering…. it was me. That was my own should. Whether it was guilt, desire, or simply something I neglected. It wasn’t Mr. Should that was muttering. It was me. Which made me realize that I need to own it. Because it was my should. My “Moses” stomping me down. My “Moses” drowning me in my own muttering.
I don’t know about you, but I hate when my “Moses” breathes his bad breath all over me and lays me out. I hate when he enters the room and dunks my head under. I hate when I am so overwhelmed by my own judgment that I can’t breathe, or even pray, “Help”. Because I feel it is God that is doing the drowning.
Have courage today. God is not in the business of drowning us. God is in the business of saving. In fact, the word, “believe” is almost synonymous with the word, “save”. You are drowning and you see a piece of wood, a surfboard, or an inner tube. You would grab onto it and believe it to save you. That is why the Bible says to believe in Jesus Christ and you will be saved. Saved out of your own high waters of should and do. Rescued from your own personal Moses that would steal your air. You are the heir to air today.
Sunday, we celebrated Palm Sunday. A day in which people said, “Hosanna! Here comes the King of Israel!” A week later, possibly the same people yelled, “Crucify this King of the Jews!” It is the start of the holy week in which such a fickle people (such as us) found out who the true Rock is. Who the true Answer is, to be saved from the drowning of all the things that Mr. Should beats us silly with. Should will kill us like the mighty El Nino waves, if we don’t hold onto something today. I encourage you to make it Jesus Christ.