I Married a Real Hero!

This series of stories brings tears to my eyes, even before I write them out.

My husband and I celebrated our 15^th wedding anniversary this week.  What an accomplishment!  We actually felt a sense of fulfillment for the journey of our relationship.   We started out as two young missionaries, serving in the same area in Texas.   Fast forward 2 years and we were finally getting married.  Back then, we were thin and adventurous kids who were excited to get married because we loved each other.  We had no other real plans, except that we would have kids.  I was 24 and he was 22.    

 

 We had our first son the month before our 1^st wedding anniversary.  We had our 2^nd son 13 months later.  We were poor but trying to make it.  We loved our two boys and they were gorgeous!  We moved from California to Arizona and then back to California in less than 2 years.  We stayed with my mom for a while we tried to find our place in the world and figure out what it was that we wanted to do and how we were going to be successful.  

By now, my sons were 3 and 2.  We went on a camping trip with our church.  At the campground, there was creek next to the lodge.  All of the kids would generally go into the creek by standing on these wood-plank rafts.  We had told our son (age 3) not to go on the rafts because it was not safe.  He nodded his head with his acknowledgment.  We then walked to the food line  to get our plates of food.  We then returned outside to find a place to sit down to watch the kids play by the creek.  As I began to sit down, I looked for my son.  To my utter surprise, he was on one of the wood-plank rafts.  Within mere seconds of me seeing him on the raft, he fell into the water.  The creek was no more than a foot-and-a-half deep, but because of his size, he could not push himself up, since his arms did not reach the creek bed.  It was as though time was in very slow-motion.  I remember seeing him face down in the water.  All of a sudden, my surroundings felt quiet.  I was only able to utter one word.  “James!”  My husband was about 10 feet from me, and as he turned to acknowledge me, I could only point to where Alexander was in the creek.   James was about 30 feet from the creek, but when he saw Alexander, he leapt.  He made it to our son in TWO huge steps.  Without doubt, I know the hand of the Lord lifted him up in that moment to get to our son.  As he leapt into the water, he reached down and with one hand pulled my son out of the water by the back of his shirt.  As the air reached my son’s lungs, he let out a painful and fearful cry.  He was shaking and wet, but he was alive.  From the moment my son fell into the water to the point at which he was pulled out took no more than one-minute.   

Indeed, my husband was a hero.

A year-and-a-half later, fearful that my son would be afraid of the water, we decided to give our boys swimming lessons.  We took them to the YMCA 2-days a week for swimming lessons.  The instructors looked like they were high-school seniors or had just graduated from high-school, but they knew how to swim and were certified so we felt okay.  Every week, the boys did well.  My second son took to the water like a duck.  It was easy for him.  My older son had understandable reservations, but he was in the water each time, having fun.  On the last day of their 6-week session, the instructors were going to let each child swim with him in the deep end.  So, he let all of the children sit on the edge of the pool at the 8-foot end.  Something inside of me felt uneasy.  As parents, we were sitting on the benches by the shallow end of the pool.  I motioned for my husband to please walk over there to “just be by them”.  My husband calmly walked over to where the children were.  I noticed the children were very happy and were leaning over the edge to look at their reflection in the pool water.  Just as my husband got close to the children, about 5 feet from the edge of the pool, my son leaned over one more time and fell into the 8-foot deep water.  Without any hesitation, my husband took ONE step (or so it appeared) and reached down into the water, and again, pulled my son straight out of the water.  The instructors had not even known that a child had fallen in.   

 

Once again, my husband was a hero.

 

Several years later, our two older boys were involved in Cub Scouts.  By this time, we had added a 3^rd son to our growing brood.  During one of the summer Cub Scout events, we went to a pool party at one of the Cub Scout families house.  After the awards were handed out, all of the kiddos went swimming.  James and I were sitting near the edge of the pool, on chairs, like most parents just watching the kids and chatting.  Our two older sons were proficient swimmers but I still kept an eye on them.  Our youngest son was not in attendance, as grandma was watching him at home.  By my estimation, there were about 25 kids in the pool.  Not terribly crowded for the size of the pool, but it was active.  Suddenly, in the middle of the pool, just past the shallow end, I noticed a young boy who appeared like he was quite frightened.  He kept dipping under the water and he was frantically trying to doggy paddle. I tapped on James’ arm and pointed out the kid.  Once again, James leapt to his feet, and stomped right into the water to pull this kid out.  The mother of this young boy, who had not been paying attention, quickly came over to comfort her son and thank my husband.   James jumped in the water without hesitation once again, this time he ruined his cell phone and leather shoes in the process, but he was a hero.

Daniel and Alexander

Finally, a few years after this incident, my oldest son was in the 6^th grade.  It was the end of the year 6^th grade party.  They went to Raging Waters at a nearby park.  James went along as a parent chaperone.  This was a big park with water slides, a lazy river and the big wave pool.  The wave pool is always a big draw because it can accommodate so many people.  My son and his friends decided to go to the wave pool for a while.  My husband decided to follow along and stand towards the “shore” of the wave pool.  As time went on, my son kept going further and further out.  It is very easy lose your place in the wave pool because the movement of the water can literally move you to a different location.  Soon, my son realized that he could no longer touch the bottom of the wave pool.  He was scared.  The lifeguards did not see him.  Just as panic set in, his father reached down and lifted him up and helped bring him back to a safer area of the water.  Alexander had not seen his father during all of his time in the wave pool, but as soon as he needed him, his father was there.   

My husband was, once again, a hero.

 

Even now, as I write this, my heart swells with emotion and tears fall from my eyes.  I have seen the hand of the Lord in my life and I have witnessed angels in our midst.  I know that my husband was lifted up in all of these moments to save the life of a child.  I know that the Lord could have called no greater person because my husband acted without hesitation.  He did not question the direction he was being sent in.  He simply went.  And when he was needed, he found himself to be in the right spot at the right time to save the life of another child of God. 

My husband does not accept my notion that he is a hero.  He is too humble to believe that he is one.  But to me he is a hero.  To his family and to his son he is one.  He has saved lives simply by acting when needed.  

Yes, I am truly blessed… because I married a real hero! 

 I love you, Hubbs!