“Have you done this before?”

I glanced at the narrow woman plopped on her boogie board.  “All the time.”

“Do you swim with your arms to go on the wave?  I heard the lifeguard tell those people to use their arms.”  She was clearly confused by the conflict with what she saw all around her as people raced by, riding the waves.

“The lifeguard was telling them how to get back to where they can stand, because there’s a rip current forming.  You should probably go in to shore.”

She didn’t ask why I wasn’t going in.  The reason? About two hundred people were playing in the fast-building current, many of them kids, and only two lifeguards had made it out on the water yet.  Already, I’d warned a group of fifteen-year-old girls that they were being dragged out, staying with them until they reached safety, and towed a girl in a brown polka-dotted tankini through waves until she could reach the bottom.  I had already chatted with a couple ten-year-old boys who were putting on a brave face, refusing help and keeping good form on top of the water, but were not making any progress towards shore.

A rip current is a fast-moving current caused by the shape of the shoreline and heads straight out to sea.  While active people who grew up near the beach, such as myself, have little to fear as they recognize the current easily, swim parallel to the shore until they get out of it, and get back to a safe depth, tourists made up the bulk of the population today; most thought the choppy waters were normal and didn’t recognize the outward pull as a danger.  Despite the two lifeguards corralling everyone towards shallow water, people continued to come back out to try to catch more waves.

“Hey!” my brother called from about thirty feet south, “come out of there to where the waves are good!”

I scissor-kicked to where he could hear me. “Those boys aren’t gonna last long and there’s not enough lifeguards out here.  Would you help me tow them in?”

As we made our way back to the boys, the younger’s independence slipped.  “I’m getting tired,” he admitted.

“Let us tow you in.”  The authority in my brother’s voice was hard to refuse, and we each grabbed a board and started swimming for shore.

About halfway in, I was beginning to tire – while towing the kid wasn’t difficult, I was managing both his and my boards at once, swimming straight in instead of at an angle because I didn’t want the boy to tip off his board with the wave.  Just at that moment, a lifeguard materialized in front of us, asking if we had a problem.

“The kids were getting tired,” I answered.

“This is your lucky day – you get a free ride in!” he started chatting with the kid immediately.  Free of the child’s weight, I kept pace with the towline, finally reaching a place where I could stand – unable to do so until the water was well below my knees.  It was a nasty current, and I could see the intensity of the lifeguards as they conducted rescues all over the shore.  Walking back to get my towel, I passed the girl in the brown polka-dot tankini sunning herself.

A day of fun had turned into an intense challenge, but at the end of it, the sun was still warm, the sand still soft, and peace pervaded all.  For my last day at the beach in awhile, it was well worth it.

This really happened: http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/2011/jul/28/lifeguards-conduct-mass-rescue-at-la-jolla-shores/

What is safety?  That's a pertinent question for someone heading to a volatile location in two weeks.

 "Safety is relative."

"But with God involved, it has to be absolute."

"Okay, safety is absolute; we just don't know what the rules are."

 This conversation with my college roommate started me searching for what safety actually means.  When we are taught to pray, the petition is not for safety, but "deliver us from evil."  Only God, in His sovereignty, knows whether any circumstance is ultimately for good or evil.  If everything God allows in the end results in His glory, then I am secured a place in His plan and ultimately safe in His goodness, regardless of what may happen.  I loved the request lifted by a wise friend:  "Place a circle of protection around her, but let there be enough holes in it for Your light to shine through."  That is what I ask for - to be safe enough to be delivered from evil, but vulnerable enough to connect with, engage with, and love people fully.  May this be true of all of us, wherever we spend our lives.