We took Sunday off from other responsibilities and drove over to Long Beach. Ray and Jane and the kids were camping there. Grandma packed a lunch for everyone, and the sun was shining like it does in July. But this was the end of September, so the weather was most unusual. We had all of the ingredients for a great family day. And indeed, it turned out that way. But not before five-year-old Nicholas gave us a great scare.
After lunch we hiked down the long trail to the beach and the kids ran for the water. The tide was a long way out so the walk across the sand took some time. I decided that I would not bother going wading, so I walked along with the kids to the water. All the other adults were back at the edge of the beach taking off shoes and stockings and putting on shorts. Three-year-old Heidi climbed to the top of a house-sized rock that jutted out into the ocean and sat down to watch. Seven-year-old Jennifer ran back towards her mom and dad. Nicholas ran to the water, playing safely along the shoreline. I walked onto the same large rock that Heidi was sitting on, but I walked along the bottom, beside the water.
Right beside the rock, where the rollers crashed in, and the surf retreated back into the sea, the sand was washed away, leaving a deep hole. Nicholas couldn’t see this hole from where he was playing. When he decided to run over towards me, I tried to shout for him to stop but the crashing waves kept him from hearing my warning.
Nicholas ran right into the deep hole. He sunk into the water, right up to his nose. He tipped his head back and screamed. Even with his head tipped back, the water was up over his chin. There is no way a little boy can stand up under the force of either the crashing waves or the outgoing surf. The next wave would have knocked Nicholas down and the retreating water would have taken him away. Nicholas was terrified and his eyes showed it. I was also terrified, and my eyes probably showed that too. Ray and Jane saw what was happening and started to run but they were too far away to get there in time. Nicholas was out of my reach but just as I was going to wade in after him, he raised his arms and kind of fell towards me. I managed to grasp one wrist and pull him to the rock while only getting one foot wet.
Nicholas recovered quickly and so did I. Or was that just on the surface? Even though we all played in the water (yes, I finally took my shoes off), and had a great time together, Nicholas had nightmares for several nights and I lay in bed awake, reliving the whole event. It was only five seconds, but I will never forget it. And the rescue was so easy once Nicholas raised his arms to me.
Our eternal rescue is just as easy if we would only raise our arms to the One who is able to rescue us and place our feet on the solid rock. I take it as a part of my task to pray that all of my little ones will one day raise their arms to the Savior and come to know the feel of the arms that will never let them go.
September 1993