I had been through life guard training some years prior, and, as my manner has been quite confident most my life, I entered the conversation. As the discussion continued, it took a turn toward our own swimming abilities. I said, “I couldn’t ever drown in calm water. I was trained to do the ‘dead man’s float’. I could tread water for days doing that. I’d fall asleep and drown before I would be able to just drown.”

 The next week, I was on vacation. We had a wonderful day doing some white water rafting. It was fun. It took us several hours to get down stream, especially when we found an extreme drop along the way, which we carried our raft above and ran it again–over and over–until we were all finally too tired to continue.

A couple of hours later, we drove below the rapids to a park where we did some wading and exploring above a waterfall. It was exhilarating as the water passed over us and fell the twenty or so feet below–not us, the water. Then my daughter and I had the great idea to go below the falls and float the sixty yards around the bend.

Well, rapids with equipment is one thing. Rapids without even a life preserver would be insane. We didn’t think we were insane. This wasn’t rapids. It was just a slightly white ripple compared to where we had been all day. Our confidence was high. It would be great fun. Off we shoved.

To this day, I know I would have drowned right there trying to save her if I hadn’t seen my daughter quickly grab the rock on the side of the cliff and pull herself out. She had quickly realized the current was too much for her. I struggled to keep my head up, and made it around the bend, only slightly busting my shins on the rocks hiding below the surface along the way. Finally, there I was, out in the calm, smooth water.

Apparently, adrenaline got me around the bend. Having been the steering oarsman all day, I suddenly, frantically realized I didn’t have the strength to even stroke my arms. I was done! “So this is it,” I thought. “I never dreamed drowning would be like this.” I struggled my head above and called for help. No one heard. “I’m really going to drown,” I realized. It was so surreal.

As I went under again, I kicked off my shoes. Gasping and squirming, luckily my shirt didn’t hang as I yanked it over my head in one motion. I tried to float, “gasp.” I tried to touch bottom, but it was too deep. I was inching toward the shore, only about thirty feet to go. “I can’t make it. It’s all over . . . there’s my daughter!” I caught my daughter in the corner of my eye walking around the top of the the cliff descending toward the lower bank where I was. I couldn’t allow my daughter to watch her father drown. I just couldn’t. Something rallied inside me. Just a little more. I felt a rock at my feet. I rolled onto the bank. I was shaking all over. I couldn’t even crawl, much less stand.

This experience taught me how little control we really have. We think we know. We think it’s up to us.

I don’t make brash statements that rely on me alone anymore. To keep current today, I trust in God. I don’t know about thirty seconds from now. How can I talk about what I can or can’t do tomorrow or ever? What I do know is I can do what God wants me to do. God is current today. He keeps me current today. He will keep you current today.

“Father, if it is what you want.” Now that’s confidence.