Do I get floaties?

I can't swim.

Ask my mom. Seriously. Like, if I raced Michael Phelps, I might win...but only because he's laughing too hard at my attempts to swim. Treading water is only safe for me if I'm standing in the shallow end. Or a kiddie pool.

Consequently, the phrase of "sink or swim" doesn't leave me with many options. Sink or...umm...hope Free Willy comes along? Sometimes that's how I feel about my upcoming ministry intern year with InterVarsity at Creighton. In less than a week, students will be on campus, and I'll be "on the job." Ready or not, I'll be mentoring, leading, teaching, and loving Creighton students, hoping to be a great resource in their spiritual growth. For the entire summer, I had been ready to get to campus. I couldn't wait. Now that I'm here, though, there's a small part of me that wonders if I'll be able to swim on day one. Like Peter stepping out of the boat so enthusiastically to follow Jesus, I begin to see the waves around me.

But my initial reaction to sinking, unlike Peter, is not necessarily to cry out to Jesus for help. I'd prefer to save myself. I'd prefer to reach for the floaties (water wings, if you will) that I packed, blow 'em up, slip them on, and continue to try to splash my way to shore. Swinging my arms wildly, wondering how many people on shore are pointing and laughing, I try harder. I may even make some progress and get closer to shore; eventually, though, I just end up tired and frustrated at how much energy I wasted.

After trying and failing to do it my own way, I start to think about what I actually need. And what I need is a swimming lesson and a good instructor. Spiritual swim lessons. (But also a lot of real swimming lessons).

You know what the great thing is? I've heard that Jesus teaches a mean backstroke.

Though it scares me at times, it may be okay that I don't feel completely confident in my own abilities. It may be okay that my "floaties" of trying to say the right words, act the right way, or strategize too much about outreach events don't support me. In the bigger picture, I don't think the point of my year at Creighton is to just stay afloat or do it on my own. I think a successful year would instead consist of learning how to swim and listening to the Instructor's advice.

So that's what I'll do. When I feel useless, I'll lean that much more on His power. When I make mistakes, I'll find solace in the grace that God provides. It's not going to happen all in one lesson, but that's alright...I've got time. So what's the first lesson going to be?

Learning how to take deep breaths.