It started young. I suppose that god recruits those with gifts that way. Bouncing back now with his existence in my thoughts, I find myself coming back to one memory. Supposing if I were to deny him completely there was that reminder that I tend to strain my brand of faith with.

Small legs. First in a pool while all others were inside, I thought I could manage the depth of it's water. Young ones rationalize things that way. I swam to six feet when I could hardly touch my toes in three. Started to swallow water and the water started swallowing me.

Frantically kicking
Managed to the ledge
Gripping my fingertips
Slipping them off instead

Too little to consider the thoughts in my head. Panic and blood rushing. All I could smell was the burn of the chlorine. Lapping and splashing to be heard because my voice was drowning already. Swallowing hurts. Then...there was another voice I heard.

"Hands up"
Quiet at first
Could have been a thought
That I knew wouldn't work
"Reach out"
Audible now but still frantic
Gripping at the ledge again
Slip, scrape, sink
Sinking down
Almost calm and mostly tired
"HANDS UP!"
Loud and clear
Bottom of the pool
And I could still hear

Little hands, in a slow moving haste, lifted in a six ft deep prison that could have led me to a six ft grave. Close my eyes and allowed the lull of the sway drift me to another place.

Flashes of light
My hand held tight
My eyes pry open
No one in sight.
Heaving the water out of my chest
Looking around
Still no one to be found
As this little child lay wet and crying on the ground.

I'm indebted to no one to be seen. The debt is now the price of my reality and my dreams. Not knowing if it was God...or the others who chose to save me. All I remember is that's the day "they" started visiting me.