Before the days of water parks and splash pads, the coolest place for summer fun in my town was the city pool. All your friends gathered there. Teenage girls sunbathed for hours on thin beach towels that were lying directly on hot concrete. Transistor radios blasted the latest songs and chimed the bell to let sunbathers know it was time to turn.
In the concession stand, they served Cokes and other icy beverages, including a mixture of all of them that we called “suicides.” And the best snack EVER was the Kit Kat bar they froze for hours. Nobody sat on the benches provided. Everybody just sat on the tables.
It was into that scene that one of my most embarrassing moments was displayed. My friend Ronald Howard had been trying to teach me to dive. I had managed to fall headfirst into the water off the pool deck a couple of times and had even successfully made it headfirst from the low diving board at least once. Ronald declared that I was then ready for the high dive. Believing him was a huge mistake.
I climbed the long ladder to the top, walked about four steps while holding onto the bars and then froze. Ronald followed behind me. By this time all my friends around the pool were cheering for me to do it! I knew that the next step would put me outside the safety of the bars on a foot-wide plank with nothing but thin air separating me from the concrete below.
I drew what I was sure was my last breath and stepped forward. Then I took another step and soon found myself at the end of the board. I waited and waited because I was terrified. I leaned over so that my head would go in first, and suddenly I was off the board and in the air. My body was in the perfect diving pose, but my brain said no to that idea. I straightened out my body and fell about 15 feet as horizontal as a plank. I heard gasps from the crowd right before I hit the water horizontally at about a million miles per hour.
Every inch of the front of my body felt the pain at the same second. Even my eyes hurt.
Exiting the water, I looked like I had landed in a pool of paint. I was red from head to toe. Everyone just stared as if they didn’t know what to do next.
My body and my pride hurt for days after that incident. In fact, it hurts when I think about it even today.
Over the past 50 years I have retold that story, many times in Ronald Howard’s presence. He has always laughed with everyone hearing it.
But recently the two of us were serving on the leadership team of a community event. At the planning table, I told the story again.
This time Ronald responded differently. He confessed that he had PUSHED me off that diving board. I guess that hidden truth had burned inside him for over 50 years!
James 5:16 says, “Confess your faults one to another, and pray for one another that ye may be healed.”
I’ve always heard that confession is good for the soul. The Bible seems to agree with that. I guess Ronald Howard does too.
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