(Psalm 18:16 NIV)
In the summer of 1988, when our children were 4 and 2, long-time friends came from Louisiana to enjoy the Blue Angels’ air show.
Pensacola Beach was crowded, the warm water inviting, and the clear, blue sky promised a spectacular display of aerial acrobatics. Jeff and I lived 30 minutes from the beach. I swam in the Gulf of Mexico all my life, cognizant of its dangers as well as any other Floridian.
Alex and Libby played at the water’s edge, begging me to go further into the waves with them. Firmly holding each other’s hands, we waded into the choppy breakers with inflated swimmies hugging their tiny arms. Splashing and laughing distracted me from the gentle pull of the undertow at my feet. Before I realized, we were farther from shore than I intended to venture.
The weight of my children on each shoulder pushed me down to the sandy bottom between each rising wave. The undercurrent dragged my feet out each time they touched the Gulf’s floor. I launched myself up for air in spurts and frantically waved at the thousands of people oblivious to the drama unfolding before them.
Finally an air-show spectator jumped to his feet and raced toward the water. Jeff caught him out of the corner of his eye and followed. Within seconds both children were lifted from my shoulders.
I’ll always remember that day, the day God’s angels reached out and rescued me and my precious children from the grasp of the unrelenting Gulf as the Blue Angels soared above.
I thank my Heavenly Father for the many ways He has freed me from the depths of danger and despair. I hope you will, too!
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