A letter from Dustin and Sherri Ellington in Zambia
May 18, 2013
Dear friends,
We have a story of thanksgiving to share with you…mostly a story of deep thanksgiving, though with lessons learned, as well.
Christopher, age 10
In early April our family was in the Cape Town area to attend a gathering of Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) mission co-workers who minister in sub-Saharan Africa. Expecting it to be a busy week, we arrived a couple of days early to explore and enjoy the area a bit, and on the day the conference was to begin, we really crammed it in: hiked up some mountains behind the town, with Clayton and a couple friends going up one of the taller, steeper ones; pestered the kayak rental place on the lagoon until they opened up and rented us some boats; and went to the beach, a special treat for us since Zambia is a land-locked country.
It was the first sunny day we’d had, and the boys and I (Sherri) had been itching to swim. After flirting with the cold water a while, never going in beyond his waist, Clayton decided he needed a goal. With my encouragement, he braved the cold water to swim out parallel to some rocks a moderate distance out.
Clayton, age 15
At first everything looked fine. My first clue that something was wrong was when a local mom approached me and asked if we were familiar with this beach. She told me there was a strong rip current, and that if my son looked back again I should motion him to swim parallel along the shore to get out of it. Meanwhile, Clayton swam ahead, continuing in the rip current, not realizing he was in it.
When Clayton reached his “goal” distance and didn’t quickly return, we knew something was, indeed, wrong. Dustin, who had run down to the beach, leaving his fish and chips lunch, camera, etc., on a restaurant table, immediately called an emergency number. (We hadn’t realized it, but there were no lifeguards this day; their seasonal contract had just ended.) South African strangers gathered on shore, praying, calling their prayer chains in other towns, pointing out glimpses of Clayton’s head whenever a swell lifted him higher than the waves in the foreground. Other than prayer, we felt helpless. One woman on shore prayed with me that if Clayton got tired, God would send angels to lift him up. This was a good prayer, especially since Clayton had climbed the mountain earlier that morning and had kayaked for an hour and a half, paddling hard in a family race at the end. Even though Clayton is strong and athletic, I didn’t know how cold he might be getting, or how well he was keeping his head vs. struggling directly against the forceful current.
When we first realized it was taking the emergency help a while to arrive, I told Dustin that if he could get me two life jackets from the kayak rental place, I would swim them out and give Clayton one, to help keep him afloat if he was tiring. I thought it was a great idea, but didn’t think Dustin or the bystanders I had also asked had acted on it. Then suddenly Dustin showed up with two life jackets plus a paddleboard. I put both life vests on, lay down on the paddleboard, and headed out, trusting the same rip current would lead me to Clayton. (Dustin sent me because I am a strong swimmer, have more ocean experience, and was trained as a lifeguard…25 years ago…and for pools, not rip currents.)
When I got out to the stronger waves and higher swells, I became concerned with how I would spot Clayton. I didn’t know how high his head would still be in the water at this point. I didn’t know whether he would be to my right or to my left. I feared passing him without seeing him, and then being unable to fight the current back to him. I lost the paddleboard when a large wave thrashed me.
Finally I looked to my right, and saw…TWO heads? The first thought that came to my mind was the woman’s prayer back on shore, that if Clayton got tired, God would send an angel to lift him up. Indeed, God had sent a human angel—named Duncan.
Newspaper photos of Duncan treading water with Clayton
Duncan, a Christian man, was not “supposed” to be there that day. He and his wife had lived in that town, Kleinmond, for 12 years but recently moved inland with their young family, and had sold their Kleinmond home that weekend. However, when they got home they realized that they had not turned over their set of house keys. Ugh…they would have to return to Kleinmond the next day…which turned out to be the day of Clayton’s rip current situation. After apologetically giving the keys to the new owners, Duncan and his wife went along with their kids’ request to go see the ocean one last time. After all, it was a nice, sunny day. They drove to the beach and parked in the parking lot over the rocks. Then Duncan saw something not right: a youth far out in the water. He exchanged his jeans for the shorts of another bystander, and jumped in. He knew the current would be too strong for him to actually bring the kid to safety, but chose to jump into the cold water anyhow, to tread water with and encourage the boy. That is where the second head in the water came from.
Who knows to what extent, and in what ways, Duncan’s presence helped keep Clayton alive. We have since learned that Clayton was, indeed, tiring, and had decided, rather than continuing to swim parallel to shore away from the rocks, to try to swim toward a rock and grab hold of it, for a rest. The thought of this makes me cringe more than almost any of the rest of it, as I know how powerful those swells were. I don’t think that even a robust person, let alone a tired one, could have held onto one of those sharp rocks when a wave swelled. The swell would have undone Clayton’s grasp, lifted him up, then dashed him back down, likely either knocking him out so he could no longer tread water or giving him a gash that would have drawn blood and attracted sharks. Our family is deeply indebted to Duncan for risking his own life to tread water with and encourage Clayton, and to God for orchestrating things just right to send Duncan to the beach on that day and at that time.
Clayton with paramedics
When I finally arrived to Clayton and Duncan, the double life jackets were so tight on my back that I couldn’t get one off for Clayton, so Duncan helped with that, too, and with getting it on Clayton. Then the three of us treaded water and waited for a rescue boat to arrive.
When the rescue vehicle came—it was a Jet Ski—Clayton could hardly climb on. Part of this was cold and exhaustion, but he was also busy using what energy he did have to yell out at the top of his lungs: “THANK YOU… GOD!!! THANK YOU…GOD!!!” over and over. I guess he did this the whole Jet Ski ride to shore; Dustin said he was still yelling it when he arrived on the beach, and that it even continued to pop out sporadically on the ambulance ride to the hospital 40 km away.
The resolution to the story is that in the hospital Clayton was treated for hypothermia with warm IV fluid in his veins and a blow-dryer-like contraption under the blankets. Meanwhile a stranger who had seen everything drove Christopher and me to our guesthouse to get passports, insurance cards, and a credit card, then drove me the 40 km to join Clayton and Dustin at the hospital. She waited there for us, bought us yogurt drinks and granola bars, and drove us all home again…and all this while tending to her own disabled and autistic child in the car. (She also left us care packages on the doorstep of our room every afternoon during our conference that week, and still prays for us even now that we are back in Zambia.)
Our new friend Duncan
We are extremely thankful to God for orchestrating things to save Clayton’s life, despite his being far off shore, for 45 minutes or so, in very cold water. It could so easily have gone the other way…and had, we learned, for someone just a month earlier, who died in that same spot. In addition to the amazing “coincidence” of Duncan being there on a day when he wasn’t “supposed” to be, there was the fact of the kayak rental place being open so we could borrow the life jackets. (It was only open because our family had phoned and asked them to open earlier in the day; they had been closed the previous two days whenever we had phoned and tried to kayak.) There was the fact that the rescue Jet Ski, when it finally arrived, worked—a year earlier, we learned, a lifeguard had been swimming for fun after work and had drowned when the Jet Ski wouldn’t start. And many other things went right as well. We actually have a whole list called Things That Went Right.
Mostly this is just a note to fill you, our partners, in on this major experience our family went through last month, so you can celebrate with us how God orchestrated things to save Clayton. We also want to thank those of you who pray for us regularly for our family’s safety, among other things. God once again has answered such prayers.
Finally, we wanted to share this story with you because we think parts of it illustrate what we as Christians are called to do for others, and even how we as Western Christians are called to partner with others globally. When we see people who are struggling in their lives, even drowning, or when we see the overwhelming problems people face in a certain region of the world (such as in Africa, or in the Middle East, or even in parts of the United States itself) sometimes the problems seem too much to face. Like some men told me on the beach when I asked them to run and get me life jackets: “No one can go out there. [Other than rescue workers who hadn’t yet arrived.] No one can.” And yet when I got out there I saw that someone HAD, and the difference that person made may have been the difference between life and death for my son. The men on the beach were right in the sense that Duncan wouldn’t have been able to bring our son in. But treading water alongside Clayton, to encourage him? That he could do.
Who might God be calling you to tread water with today?
Thank you for your prayer support and financial support, both of which enable us to “tread water” with our friends and partners here in Africa and to be part of an organized effort—Justo Mwale Theological University College—of training more well-prepared Christian leaders for the church in Zambia, Malawi, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and South Africa. If you would like to give toward our financial support, more information is available below. We also have some prayer requests (also below). And we will soon be heading to the U.S.A. on “Interpretation Assignment”—sharing with the U.S. church about God’s work in Zambia and southern Africa. If your church would like to invite us to speak sometime between August 2013 and July 2014, please be in touch!
Prayer requests:
- Students — That their training at Justo Mwale will truly help their love to abound in knowledge and all depth of insight (Philippians 1:9).
- Visiting professors — Dr. Marty Soards, from Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, and Dr. Phil Gladden, from Wallace Presbyterian Church in North Carolina, will be teaching intensive courses at Justo Mwale for the last three weeks of June. Pray for their adjustments to Zambia and their ministries of teaching and encouraging the students.
- Limited weeks and days — We have less than seven weeks left before we return to the United States for a whole year, and we need a lot of wisdom to know how to prioritize the little time we have left, as well as daily strength to make the most of this time.
- Water issues — Our campus often has water and electricity issues. The water situation has gotten quite bad lately. Fortunately, funds have been donated to fix it (by National Presbyterian Church in D.C.). Pray for wisdom to understand and fix the root problem(s) in addition to patching up the emergencies.
Financial support:
If you are interested in giving financially to support our ministry in Zambia, gifts (either one-time or recurring) can be made at www.presbyterianmission.org/give/E200478/.
(Or use the "Give" link below.)
Thank you for being our partners in ministry.
Sincerely,
Sherri and Dustin Ellington
The 2013 Presbyterian Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 115
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