Goggles On, Ears Open
A few months ago, I started taking swimming lessons.
I grew up not knowing how to swim, largely because of my hair. (Growing up in the 1980s, hair options for Black girls were a bit limited, especially if your mother wasn’t particularly gifted at styling hair and was hesitant to put a chemical relaxer on her daughter.)
I wore braids occasionally, but they weren’t nearly as popular for young girls as they are now. So whenever I had an opportunity to splash around in a pool, the instructions were clear: “Don’t get your hair wet!”
If my natural hair got wet, it would dry, shrink, and become a styling situation that nobody wanted to deal with.
It’s kind of hard to learn how to swim when your head is under strict orders to remain dry. So learning to swim never happened.
In my 20s, I tried adult swimming lessons at the local YMCA, but I quit. I was impatient and embarrassed. There I was, one of the tallest people in the class, trying to master a flutter kick while children barely reaching my waist were whizzing past me with kickboards and backstrokes.
Now, here I am in my 40s, taking swimming lessons three times a week. Each time I get into the pool, God teaches me something or gives me a greater understanding of His will for my life.
I wish I could tell you I’m a graceful swimmer who effortlessly glides through the water, beautifully coordinating her arms, legs, and breathing.
I am not that woman. At least, not yet.
Some days, practicing a basic skill for what feels like the millionth time still results in thrashing water and anxiously gasping for air. Imagine my rubber fins, an oversized swim cap, goggles, and my six-foot frame in a one-piece bathing suit, and you can imagine the scene.
But nevertheless friends, God speaks, and I am listening.
The pool has become my classroom. You may never step into a swimming pool during this season of your life, but perhaps something from my lessons will help you recognize what God is teaching you in yours.
1. Your Teacher Might Be Half Your Age
I’ve had several swimming instructors, and each has taught me something valuable. My current instructor is about half my age. He could be my son.
Recently, he mentioned a local organization and asked if I was familiar with it. I proudly explained that it had been around since I was a little girl in the mid-1980s.
He was shocked that the organization had existed for so long.
I smiled while quietly realizing that my childhood apparently was like something out of a history book for him.
But this young man knows something I need to learn. When we get into that pool, my job is to listen, receive instruction, and practice what he teaches me.
God has reminded me that I don’t get to decide who is qualified to teach me based on age, appearance, or whether their résumé looks the way I think it should.
Sometimes we ask God for wisdom, then dismiss the person He sends because she is younger, less experienced in another area, or someone we’re accustomed to helping.
Humility makes room to receive.
I may have more life experience than my swimming instructor, but he has considerably more experience getting across a pool without a lengthy conversation with the wall.
I would be foolish to miss what he can teach me because I’m focused on his age.
Thought: Who might God be using to teach you—and have you been willing to listen?
2. You Can’t See Your Own Stroke
When I’m swimming freestyle, my brain has a full agenda.
Kacie, keep your core tight. Kick from your hips. Rotate, but don’t over rotate. Exhale. Turn your head. Breathe.
And please remember that breathing underwater and breathing above water are two very different activities.
While I’m trying to manage all of that, my instructor can see things I cannot. He notices when my elbow drops, when I turn my head too soon, or when something in my stroke needs adjusting.
He has a different vantage point.
God has used this to remind me that I need people in my life who have permission to help me see what I’m missing.
People who love me enough to say, “Your form is off.”
Outside the pool, that might sound like:
“You don’t sound like yourself. How are you really doing?”
“You’ve stopped doing something you once said was important to you. What happened?”
“I'm hearing a lot of fear based off what you’re saying. Let's pray about that?”
Now, I don’t believe giving everybody with an opinion unrestricted access to your life. I’m talking about trusted, godly people who care about your growth and can offer encouragement and honest correction.
Sometimes I feel as though I’m doing exactly what my instructor told me to do but his feedback tells a different story.
The same can happen in my spiritual life. My intentions may be good, but I still need help seeing how my words, habits, or attitudes are affecting me and others.
Thought: Do you have someone who can lovingly correct you? And when she does, do you receive it—or immediately explain why she’s wrong?
3. Don’t Roll Your Eyes at the Drills
Because I’m part of a class, my instructor divides his attention among several students. Some attend consistently, some come occasionally, and sometimes someone brand-new joins us.
When a newcomer needs help getting comfortable in the water, my instructor often gives me drills.
Kicking drills. Breathing drills. Endurance drills.
More kicking. More breathing.
There have been moments when those drills felt like busy work while he helped somebody else. I wanted to move on to something new.
But God began showing me what was happening through the repetition. I was practicing the very skills I needed to become a stronger swimmer.
Every lap didn’t need to introduce something new. I needed time to become consistent with what I had already been taught.
That lesson applies outside of the pool as well.
Sometimes reading the Bible, praying, fasting, and gathering with other believers can begin to feel routine. We want a fresh revelation, an exciting assignment, or a dramatic answer to prayer.
Meanwhile, God may be inviting us to practice what He has already shown us.
Forgive again. Pray about it again, open your Bible again. Follow through on the instruction you already received.
Thought: What have you been calling repetitive that God may be using to strengthen you?
I started swimming lessons because I wanted to learn how to swim. I didn’t expect to receive so much instruction about humility, correction, and consistency through my swim lessons.
It makes me wonder how many lessons I’ve hurried past because they didn’t arrive during my designated prayer time or come from behind a pulpit.
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher. He can bring Scripture to mind while we’re washing dishes, reveal an attitude while we’re sitting in traffic, or help us recognize fear while we’re learning something new.
So this week, pay attention during your ordinary activities. Ask, “Holy Spirit, what are You teaching me here?” Then make room to listen, allowing Scripture to guide how you understand and respond.
I’m going to keep showing up at the pool—with my fins, goggles, swim cap, and humility.
I know that I still have plenty to learn. About swimming, too.
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