The waves were pounding the western Maui shore. The backflow surge at the deepening point was strong and consistent, an undercurrent that could swiftly take a small child out to sea.

Hannah was persistent, though. She wanted daddy to hold her hand and place her into the swirling mayhem. No floaties. No life jacket. Just daddy’s hand.


She’s our truly adventurous one, a two year-old that will be the first of the brood to eventually climb a mountain, swim with sharks, and jump out of an airplane.

Caleb does possess a spark of adventure in him also. He eyed the big, spiraling waterslide on the other side of the resort. It exited into a crash of water and jets that propelled the rider away from the tunnel’s end.

Even though he can’t yet swim, Caleb had to experience it. No floaties. No life jacket. Just daddy waiting to catch him.

Caleb rode the water down the twisting slide over and over again. He couldn’t see me until that last moment. He ascended the stairs each time, jumped into the half-pipe plume and, with confidence, knew that I would be there for him at the end.

As if often the case with me, I take these simple life experiences and put them into the context of the children our ministry works to rescue and care for.

I thought of the child who has no daddy to stabilize her against the waves, or the child who has no father they know will catch them and bring them up and out of churning waters.

Where the waves break, my heart broke again.

Besides the knowledge of a Heavenly Father, these kids need to see that somebody is there for them, looking out for them, protecting them, loving them.

They need somebody to trust.