{"id":3382,"date":"2011-12-14T22:46:01","date_gmt":"2011-12-15T06:46:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/?p=3382"},"modified":"2011-12-18T11:55:40","modified_gmt":"2011-12-18T19:55:40","slug":"the-day-my-life-was-saved","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/the-day-my-life-was-saved\/","title":{"rendered":"The Day My Life Was Saved"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Nothing tastes as bad as the Indian Ocean. Not turpentine. Not rotten eggs. Not sulphur. And certainly not soap, cod-liver oil or mud! Especially not when you are in the middle of it, swallowing and choking on heaps of it, and it is mercilessly drowning you. The Indian Ocean.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s where I was, although not really in the middle of it, but only a few miles out from shore, off the coast of Mogadishu, Somalia, in 1974. Thrashing wildly to breathe and stay afloat and fighting desperately for my life. And slowly, inexorably…drowning in the beautiful, sunlit waves of an inhospitable Indian Ocean.<\/p>\n

The first surge of stomach cramps struck suddenly and without warning. A second later the first huge wave of surf hit and I was immediately knocked senseless and sent spiralling to the depths below.\u00a0 But I quickly resurfaced and was ready to do battle with this monstrous element.\u00a0 For I was young and in the prime of health and physical condition.\u00a0 And being young and equally cocky, I was indomitable, indestructible and scared of nothing.\u00a0 Besides, the ocean and I had always been friends and stalwart companions during the time I lived and worked in Mogadishu, Somalia.\u00a0 For I was also an U.S. Marine, and I was the toughest young jarhead on the planet!<\/p>\n

Serving on Marine Security Guard Duty in East Africa, I was one of a group of young marines assigned to protect the United States Embassy in the capital of Somalia\u2019s tiny, poverty-stricken nation.\u00a0 This was many years before that poor country made headlines and saw other young Americans embattled and struggling for their lives there.\u00a0 It was a time when there was still infrastructure, civil order, a centralized government, numerous businesses and even occasional tourists.\u00a0 There were even friendly night-spots to wine, dine and dance the humid evenings away.\u00a0 As well as a fair number of Italian farmers, Western diplomats, and Americans and Europeans of various business interests and occupations with whom to socialize and enjoy the year-long sunny, sandy Indian Ocean beaches.<\/p>\n

But there were no sunny sandy beaches nor friendly tourists for me this dark bright morning.\u00a0 And no person three miles away on shore–even with a good set of binoculars–who would spot me writhing and fitfully drowning in the sea.\u00a0 Nor were there any other nearby swimmers or sea vessels in the area to come to my aid.\u00a0 I was completely without the possibility of human assistance or rescue.\u00a0 And utterly, totally alone.<\/p>\n

Mere seconds had elapsed after resurfacing.\u00a0 Then, with barely time to take a breath, another swell–larger than the first–appeared from nowhere and forced me to re-submerge.\u00a0 At the same time, another wave of cramps–this one also worse than before–came over me.\u00a0 As I was sent choking below the surface, I felt my body grow slack and begin to lose what I had always assumed was a boundless strength and vitality.<\/p>\n

My predicament was far more serious than I had thought.\u00a0 It was now dire and terrifying.\u00a0 What had become of my indomitable vigor?\u00a0 Where was my limitless strength, youthful indestructibility and the carefree attitude I held towards the once puny sea?\u00a0 Other thoughts pervaded my confused, groping mind: why did I swim out here?\u00a0 What had I been trying to prove again?\u00a0 My effortless strength as a swimmer and ability to merge as one with the ocean?\u00a0 And why, in God\u2019s name, had I consumed a large meal before swimming miles out to take on the tireless sea?<\/p>\n

A whole minute passed since resurfacing yet once more.\u00a0 Somehow and mercifully, another swell failed to roll in and punish me.\u00a0 So, with exhaustive effort, I was able to reposition myself and start for shore. I laid face forward and flat upon my stomach and, with only cupped hands, was able now to propel my listless hulk from the persistent danger looming behind.<\/p>\n

But the shore seemed a line on the horizon, and I wasn\u2019t even sure if it were still there.\u00a0 Far worse were the cramps now swathing my entire body and draining what little strength I yet had.\u00a0 The sea which was usually comfortably warm this time of day now felt frigid and tightening, and I was fast losing sensation in my limbs.\u00a0 After a few strides, a strange
\ndepression seized me and suddenly I felt certain I would not make it back to shore.\u00a0 Apparently, I believed I was no longer drowning, but was about to drown.<\/p>\n

Then, and again without warning, yet another wave slammed against me; and with even greater weight and force.\u00a0 I was sent below the sea\u2019s glaring surface a third time, and went choking and retching on the brine I had already swallowed, and began vomiting more of the large meal I consumed earlier in the day.\u00a0 But I was also struggling not to gasp for air while submerged.\u00a0 For I had only exhaled a tiny breath before being forced to submerge once more.<\/p>\n

What seemed like hours were only seconds this time submerged.\u00a0 But such was the time I had to reflect on my young, short-lived life, on what little I had accomplished and all that I still had left to do.\u00a0 Before drowning.\u00a0 Before becoming lifeless and innate.\u00a0 Before being swallowed whole by the Indian Ocean.<\/p>\n

But indeed, they were only seconds, and there was not much of anything significant I had to reflect upon, except the sudden realization that I wasn\u2019t an atheist and did believe in God.\u00a0 And that now would be a good time to pray!<\/p>\n

But I had no time to pray.\u00a0 No time left to reflect further upon my brief, uneventful life.\u00a0 Let alone time to ask of the God whom I seldom prayed to, for divine intervention.\u00a0 I was drowning, almost drowned, and about to die.\u00a0 I had swallowed a sea of saltwater and despair, and was physically depleted and spiritually drained. So I was listless to hope and loathed to think one further thought or offer up a single prayer…even if I could.<\/p>\n

Then, unexpectedly and not knowing how, I was once more above the surface, coughing up sea and gasping for air.\u00a0 But I was barely afloat, and unable to move a single muscle or fiber of my being.\u00a0 The end would come any second now, and why it hadn\u2019t already, was beyond all human understanding.\u00a0 Then ultimate despair turned into ultimate terror: out at sea, not more than 70 or 80 yards distant, another wave of unbelievable size was heading directly towards me.\u00a0 And at a hurtling pace!\u00a0 It was at this moment I heard The Voice.<\/p>\n

But no, it was more than a voice.\u00a0 Gentle in tone, and powerful and confident in\u00a0inflection, it was at the same time a soothing whisper and a mighty clarion: both comforting and commanding.\u00a0 It said, \u201cRelax, let go of yourself.\u00a0 And fall back upon the waves and lie still.\u00a0 I will save you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I did as I was told and let go of myself completely and ceased further exertion.\u00a0 Suddenly, I found myself on my back, stretched-out and calmly floating upon the tossing water.\u00a0 Then the tide–of momentous size and girth–loomed above me…but only for a second.\u00a0 The next instant I was riding its crest and being ferried towards shore.<\/p>\n

During this not unpleasant ride to shore, I had a sensation of floating on a cushion of air or reclining in a soft bed of flowers.\u00a0 Overhead, all I could see was a perfect-looking noonday sun smiling back at me, as well as a few scattered, friendly-looking clouds.\u00a0 But in my mind all I heard and kept hearing was the Voice that spoke to me.\u00a0 Its firm, soft-sounding words and nothing more.\u00a0 And this until I was let go of the wave and crawled the rest of the distance to shore, where I sprawled for an unknown period until my strength and senses returned to me.<\/p>\n

This was over thirty years ago, and much has happened in my life since then, some things bad and many things good.\u00a0 And though I have no physical proof of the event–no video or photos or tape recordings or eye witnesses, and sometimes even forget that it actually happened (as I often forget to be a prayerful person), I know that it did.\u00a0 Especially on lovely sunlit days and whenever I am near the ocean.\u00a0 I also know that it was real and really happened because, you see, I did not drown and am still alive.\u00a0 Someone or something spoke to me in angelic tones one day when I was drowning in the distasteful Indian Ocean.\u00a0 It told me that I would be saved.\u00a0 And I was.<\/p>\n

SHIP OF LIFE! – by Patrick P. Stafford<\/p>\n

Make this the passion of a lifetime
\nas if today is the beginning
\nand there is no yesterday:
\nSet out upon the ship of life
\ndisciplined in mind and spirit,
\nfearless of peril and danger,
\ndauntless with faith and conviction,
\ncertain of justice and in judgment,
\nrelentless in duty and with honesty,
\nprepared for enterprise and challenge,
\nhumble and merciful in victory,
\nand glorious and dignified in defeat!
\nEmbrace each day with pride and gratitude
\nand honor yourself with happiness and joy.
\nBe different, be special, be a philosopher!
\nSet a goal, take a chance, strive for freedom!
\nAnd dare to try.<\/p>\n

For this is the passion of a lifetime
\nas if tomorrow is today
\nand there is no turning back:
\nSet out upon the ship of life
\nloyal to wisdom and to truth,
\ntrue to love and to friendship,
\nbrave before suffering and despair,
\nadamant against evil and corruption,
\ntriumphant over anger and hate,
\nstronger than motive and emotion,
\nand meek and gentle with compassion!
\nEmbrace each day with reverence and wonder
\nand reward yourself with laughter and beauty.
\nBe unique, be visionary, be a dreamer!
\nSet an example, strike a blow, strive for peace!
\nAnd dare to live.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Patrick P. Stafford Bio:<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Patrick P. Stafford (Patrick The Copywriting\u00a0Poet!) is a resident of Northridge, California, and works full-time as a journalist, copywriter, editor and poet.\u00a0 Patrick has written for AccessLife.com, Wheelin’ Sportsman, Amateur Chef Magazine, Healthcare Traveler and Northern Virginia Magazine, and has sold poems, articles and editorial pieces to both online and print publications over the past 30 years.\u00a0 He recently had books of poetry published online at Writer’s Closet and SynergEbooks, and another poetic tome, regarding the life and death of Princess Diana, published in print in 2002, as well as fiction and journalistic pieces published nationally and internationally.<\/p>\n

His Author’s Den\u00a0Writer’s Website:\u00a0 http:\/\/www.authorsden.com\/patrickpstafford<\/a><\/p>\n

His Writer’s Blog:\u00a0 http:\/\/nicepoethere.wordpress.com\/<\/a><\/p>\n

His Writer’s Profile On Linkedin:\u00a0 http:\/\/www.linkedin.com\/pub\/patrick-p-stafford\/7\/320\/37a<\/a><\/p>\n

Back to <\/strong>Stories<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Nothing tastes as bad as the Indian Ocean. Not turpentine. Not rotten eggs. Not sulphur. And certainly not soap, cod-liver oil or mud! Especially not when you are in the middle of it, swallowing and choking on heaps of it, and it is mercilessly drowning you. The Indian Ocean. And that\u2019s where I was, although […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":211,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[26,83,16],"tags":[154,128,172,17],"class_list":["post-3382","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-learning","category-miracle","category-spiritual","tag-inspiration","tag-learning","tag-miracle","tag-spiritual-2"],"aioseo_notices":[],"views":8208,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3382","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/211"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3382"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3382\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3382"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3382"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3382"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}