Water

Geoffrey once told me a story about how he almost died as a young man. He was fishing on Lake Victoria and trying to travel from one port to another. A storm suddenly came upon the boat and tossed the vessel miles down the lake in fog. When they came ashore, the locals were amazed that they survived, pointing out to them the jagged rocks that protruded near the shore for miles. He truly believes God saved him that day. I asked, a bit perplexed, “Couldn’t you have swam to shore if the boat capsized?” Geoffrey laughed and replied, matter of factly, “Of course not, I can’t swim.”

Many Ugandans have never seen a river or lake, let alone been taught how to float in them. This was a shock to me, one who grew up around pools and lakes and was a lifeguard. In fact, last week in conversation I mentioned that I once worked saving people from drowning and the man I was speaking with looked at me like I was otherworldly.

So, when we took the older boys and girls down to Lake Victoria to see it up close they were in a state of shock. When I slowly walked them out on the dock they were nervous but curious. When I asked who had been near a large amount of water like this only a couple raised their hands. They spent most their time just looking down over the rails.





The day we took the boys it was quite windy and waves were crashing onto shore. It reminded me a bit of home and I decided to take off my shoes and walk in the waves as they were coming in and out. At this point, even the adults were adamant in telling me that I should not touch the water and the kids were telling me that I was going to die. Much to their surprise, I didn’t. After a few minutes of building castles that were destroyed by the waves and digging my feet into the sand, they decided to come closer, picking up rocks and shells that were strewn about. They were curious of the water and its contents. A few days later I found a collection of rocks and smooth glass in the boys home that they must have stuffed in their pockets to bring back.





That time at the beach I will never forget. It was simply outside of the scope of what I knew, the reality of growing up around water. I was reminded of baptism and the image of death and life that St. Paul uses, being immersed as if dying and being brought out as if you have new life. For Ugandans, this image is much more vivid. I remembered Scott telling me that when many of the church members here were baptized they had never gone under water. The prospect of death was in the back of their minds as they were lowered under the waves to a strange, dark, distorted world. There was never any real danger, but the uncertainty of coming back up was a reality.

I am also reminded of the story of Jesus calming the waters. When a storm quickly kicked up on the Sea of Galilee many of the disciples most likely did not know how to swim. I had forgotten just how much the raging sea represented chaos, darkness, death to them. What happened? Jesus brought order, light, life in the midst of despair.