It was two weeks of lessons. Two weeks of hustling everyone (and by everyone, I mean Alice, too) out the door at 10:45 a.m. each day for an hour plus of swimming while I baked on the sidelines in 95+ degree temps.
Did I want to do swim lessons? No, I did not. Was it a good thing— the best thing— to do them? Yes. It clearly was.
The Fab Five rocked their swim lessons. But this isn’t actually a post about my kids and their swimming prowess.
It’s a post about community and encouragement and all the things you can see God doing in the world if you just stop and look.
The kind people who went out of their way to tell me that my kids were exceptionally welcoming, or polite.
The opportunities I had to interact with mothers I’d never have met otherwise.
The chances we all had to share the Gospel in words and in deed right here, to our neighbors.
My husband is currently across an ocean, living out his call to train and equip believers to evangelize their own people. And we are here, offering to pray with a pregnant woman whose morning sickness doesn’t seem to know it’s supposed to stay in the morning, asking the shy 7 year-old if he’d like a turn diving for the sinking sharks, giving the elderly lady a bottle of water from our bag so she doesn’t have to keep getting up to make her way to the water fountains.
Small things, but things I admit I had forgotten were so sweet until God reminded me. Gently. Graciously. While I was sweating it out at the side of a public pool.