Yesterday we headed to the lake with some friends for a fun day of boating, swimming and enjoying the last few moments of summer. It was something I was looking forward to partly because of the chance to enjoy time with my family and partly because of the company. My friend Kim and I have been friends since high school and we both have fond memories of trips to the same lake as teens. Now we are bringing our teens with us! How did that happen?
The day went swimmingly (excuse the pun). We laid by their pool for a bit, which offered a spectacular view of the lake. Then we decided to take a boat ride so the kids could tube. They loved it and were all smiles as they took their turns. Then some of my friend's family arrived by boat, so we went back to the marina to hang out with them for awhile. It was so hot that we all jumped into the water off the dock to cool off. We spent the last hours of the day floating in the water and chatting. It was so relaxing and we were just starting the dialogue of "what shall we do for dinner?" when Curt climbed out of the water with blood running down his face, looking confused.
To be honest, at first I thought he was playing a joke. But as the blood covered his face at an alarming rate I realized that he was in trouble. Turns out he was swimming towards the dock with his eyes closed, overshot and came up under the dock into a piece of metal, splitting his head open. It didn't take long for us to determine that our day of fun had taken a turn for the worse and, instead of dinner, we were headed to the hospital. We quickly packed up kids and belongings and I drove the 45 minutes back to our neck of the woods to take him to the ER with him holding ice and paper towels on his bleeding head the whole way.
Six staples later, he is home and doing fine. Moving a bit slower than normal, but fine. We have changed our weekend plans from going and doing to resting and reflecting. At first I struggled with feeling angry-- not at him, just in general-- about our plans being so dramatically altered and our "fun" being called on account of injury. But as the night progressed, I realized how much worse it could have been and changed my attitude from one of feeling sorry for myself to one of praising God that we were all home and safe. A bit battered, but safe. Last night Curt said that he was very grateful that the impact with the metal hadn't knocked him out. He would have been under the dock and slipped quietly underwater. I shuddered at the thought.
I thank God for having His hand on Curt yesterday and for His patience with me to catch up with His grace and His goodness to us. My faith statement for today? I am protected from all harm and evil in Jesus' name. (Psalm 91:14-16)