“Criss-cross Applesauce,” with God’s Help

As the summer comes to a close, many will relish in the memories they made—hopefully fond ones that involve sun and sand—and quality time with family and friends. The memory that sticks out in my mind elicits feelings of distress, with a smidgen of pride—the good kind. First let me say my two biggest fears are water and motion. I never learned to swim and I’m sensitive to movement and get ill. No roller coasters or water parks for me.

But I do enjoy boating, which may seem incongruous. I don’t mean a speedboat upon choppy seas. I go for a pontoon craft on calm water. 

Over the Fourth of July holiday, my husband, our two youngest children (ages ten and eight), another couple, and I spent time at a lake. We rented a pontoon boat and tubes for the kids. 

Watching their little bodies bounce effortlessly through the waves created by the boat’s drag and listening to their squeals of delight was thrilling. So much so that I wondered why I was missing out on all the fun.  

No matter how many times they skipped across the water, they couldn’t wait to do it again. It looked like a blast! When I announced, in a moment of bravado, “I want to try,” the looks of shock and concern should have been enough for me to say, “Ha ha, just kidding!”

My first try at boarding the tube was an epic failure. I was told to flop on, landing on my belly. I completely missed the tube and bobbed up on the other side of it. The second time, I undershot my flop and the tube flipped over on top of me. Then I quit, but I had a fresh set of resolve the next day.

My ten-year-old bonus daughter had upgraded her form and sat “criss-cross applesauce” on the tube. This method seemed practical, and I wouldn’t have the difficulty of trying to flop and land. 

My “crew” was encouraging me as I gingerly boarded the round platform. The driver promised to go slowly and straight. As the tube started to drift out behind the boat, panic set in. My breathing became labored and short, my body tense, and my thoughts erratic. And that was while I was sitting still!

But I’d come this far; I had to do it. I gave the go sign. As the front of the tube lifted off the water’s surface, I shrieked! Thirty seconds later, I shouted, “I’m done!” 

My husband told me my face was ashen, and there was a video to prove it. I hope as cooler breezes blow in, my feelings shift from ones of trauma to triumph. After all, I learned that, with God’s help, I can face my fears.But for now, I think I’ll stay in my comfort zone.