The Bigger Issue

Photo courtesy of lifeguardinfo.com

Last summer, my two-year-old daughter waddled ahead of us into our community pool and promptly sank in below her head.  I was standing at a deck chair, smathering my arms with sunscreen when I heard the splash and looked up, taking in the dreadful sight of the top of my little girl's head, bobbing along in the water. Thankfully, the lifeguard jumped in and grabbed her out within a matter of seconds (which felt like minutes to me!).  By this time, I had run to the edge of the pool and scooped up my daughter into my arms.  Holding her close to my chest, she began to cry, pressed against my racing heart and encircled by my trembling hands.  It did not take long for her to calm down--once we found a Band-aid for a little scrape she had sustained on her shin--and soon she wanted to go back to the water and play while the older ones finished their swimming lessons.  After the lessons were over, I quickly packed up the pool bag, called my husband and told him what had happened, and headed home.  I can remember crying all the way back home, and even moreso when my husband walked in the door a few minutes after we arrived.  Although our little one appeared to be fine, we took a family trip to the ER to get her checked out.  We were due to leave town the next day for a beach vacation and we just wanted to make sure her lungs sounded clear and all looked good on X-ray.

Sitting on a gurney with my daughter, we told her near-drowning story to several technicians, nurses, and physicians that stopped by the examination room.  With each retelling, my daughter would begin to peel back the Band-aid on her shin and point out her "boo-boo" to each healthcare professional.  I would lock eyes with them at some point in her story and we'd smile with the mutual understanding and amusement that to her, this ER visit was all about her scrape.  Of course, the real concern was her lungs--had she aspirated the pool water, her ability to respirate could be impaired and set her up for serious infection and further complications.

Fortunately, my daughter was just fine--her lungs sounded clear and everything checked out fine--and we were soon on our way home to pack for our family vacation.  However, our experience got me thinking about sin in a fresh way.  You see, so often we consider our sin problem to be like the scrape on my daughter's shin.  We see it as relatively small, an inconvenience, perhaps a bit painful, but mostly external to ourselves.  However, God sees it for what it really is--something much deeper, and more critical to the health of our souls and lives.  And we must be willing to ask God to allow us to see it as HE sees it, for from our limited perspective, we will never be able to understand its gravity and danger.  It is only when we see it as He sees it that we will have the desire to repent of it and grow to me more like Christ!