River Rescue
Dad puffed contentedly on his pipe of baccy, St Bruno Rough Cut, and waited for a tug on his line as he sat on his small, collapsible, canvas camp-stool. In the countryside, the River Thames flowed deep and quiet and the gentle summer breeze rustled in the willows.
SPLASH! Suddenly alert, Dad’s eyes snapped right. He darted down the river bank, scattering his stool, rod and pipe on the ground in his haste.
A few yards downstream, where the row boat was tied, he plunged his left hand deep into the murky green depths and managed to grab hold of a few strands of my hair as it floated upwards, He pulled and grabbed more hair and hauled my bedraggled pre-school body out onto the river’s edge.
Ejecting river water from my mouth and nose, I spluttered and cried as Dad led me up the garden path to the cottage. It was more and more difficult to walk as my navy-blue, flannel knickers, weighted down with water and river-weed sagged to my knees and then to my ankles. My mother and teen sister came running to meet us from the cottage. Mum’s frantic eyes and anxiety contrasted with my sister’s laughter at the ridiculous sight.
Dad rescued me from my foolishness that day. The rowboat was tied to the shore after we had rowed along the river as a family. I had enjoyed the soothing, rocking sensation as we floated upstream and back. The boat was enticing me to step in and bob on the water again. It had looked so easy, as easy as stepping into the house. I had confidently placed one foot into the boat but kept the other one on shore, just to be on the safe side. The boat had glided away from the shore and I had tumbled into the river as my legs split apart.
Dad rescued me from my foolishness that day; he is no longer here to rescue me from my foolishness.
However, I am not without a father. My Heavenly Father rescues me from the murky waters of self-doubt. He sets my mind on solid ground. I can walk with confidence the path He has prepared for me.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. Psalm 40:2 NIV
This is lovely, Andrea. I could just see your Dad snap to full alertness at the sound of the splash.
Lovely article! Reminded me of the time when I was about 5 yrs old, mum, dad and I were having a picnic at the local gravel pit, I was splashing about in the water, when suddenly I stepped into a 6ft hole, where they had scooped out the gravel! Dad saw me just in time, and went in, fully clothed and rescued me. God was watching over me that day, and still is.