Tumbling in the Undertow

I’ll never forget the first time I went body surfing.

Only a tiny part of a much larger set of events, it remains vividly stamped upon my mind…

• Ten years old! 
• Traveling – on a plane for the very first time that I could independently remember! 
• On a trip with my swim team and without my parents – also for the first time! 
• Coco Beach, Florida – a truly different world from where I was growing up! 
• My very first Shirley Temple, with a maraschino cherry, even! 

Yet something about the white sand, the shimmery rolling waves advancing on the beach, the seabirds soaring and squawking far above, the relentless sun, the brilliant blue sky and a still-to-this-day lesson learned (although not always well- learned)… I occasionally dream of that afternoon, still.

My parents had forbidden me to play in the ocean. They understood much better than I the power of the waves and recognized my ignorance of that power as well as my arrogance in my capacity to handle myself well in the water. I wasn’t to do anything more than wade in the ankle to knee deep froth along the beach....

**********************************************************

To read the rest of this adventure, head on over to a life overseas: the missions conversation. This post isn't just for missionary types - but anyone who knows or loves a missionary.