A Lesson from a Water Park
That time Nate saved the day at an RV park in Dubois, Wyoming
An unexpected lesson from a water park that resurfaced at an RV park.
August 2024, Virginia Beach, VA
July 5, 2025, Traverse City, Michigan
”Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” Philippians 4:8-9
On Saturday, July 5, as I was making pancakes in the fifth wheel in Traverse City, Michigan, I scrolled Facebook and came across a post that made me pause. A high school classmate of ours wrote out a prayer for a place called Camp Mystic.
In the span of a few hours there were 150+ replies. A quick Google search filled me in on the horrifying details that we’re all now privy to. Cabins of young girls at camp washed away in a flash flood on the Guadalupe River in Texas on the 4th of July. I was horror-struck, completely gutted, as I know we all were.
The feeling compounded moments later when several messages rolled in on the group chat of my closest high school friends, where specific girls were listed as missing and some already confirmed killed. Some of the girls were daughters, nieces, neighbors of our high school friends.
Moments later, as I was pouring coffee in an RV park, I scrolled to a news video of an RV park along the same river in which all 28 rigs at its 28 campsites were washed away, nothing left but concrete pads.
I can’t imagine hearing about this horrible tragedy and not being shaken by it. No doubt anyone with camper and counselor aged kids/grandkids has also been carrying the tremendous grief of it all.
While these families were suffering the unimaginable, ahead for our family lay a day of vacation exploring Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan. As we continued cleaning up the evidence of scrambled eggs, filling water bottles, packing towels, the guilt of our family’s good fortune grew inside me.
Then a lesson came to mind that the Lord taught me last summer.
Lesson from a Water Park
For the past few years, our family has enjoyed summer passes to the local Virginia Beach water park. It was close to the back gate of Nick’s base and easy to link up for an hour or two on a hot week day. The kids love it, and it’s a fun way to sneak in family time during the busy summer work weeks.
One Saturday last August, Nate was busy all day at a birthday party. Nick was doing projects around the house. Sadie had to clean her room, and then I promised I’d take her to the water park.
In the background, terrible headlines were coming from wars in Ukraine and Gaza. As I drove to the water park on that mild, sunny Saturday, I had this immense feeling of guilt that while families in war-torn places were literally trying to survive the day, I was taking my daughter to a water park, just for fun. There was no greater sense of purpose to our outing. Just pure indulgent recreation. How was I so privileged that this was my life, water park for fun with my daughter on a Saturday afternoon? And considering this line of thinking, how grossly indulgent was a whole year of recreation to come?
With Sadie still begging for water park time, I pushed aside the guilty feeling and drove her to the park. After sunscreen, we went down our favorite slides. It was a cooler August day, mid-70s, so the place wasn’t as packed as a typical Saturday.
In the deep end of the wave pool, as Sadie turned flips waiting for the waves to start, something caught my eye to my right. A lifeguard on the side of the pool stood from her chair, her eyes intensely locked to my left.
I followed her gaze, my eyes landing on a young boy, probably 6 or 7, no life jacket, looking up from just below the water’s surface. He was about six feet away from me. There were no other people nearby.
As I’ve often heard it drowning described, his life-threatening predicament was shockingly silent.
I heard the splash of the lifeguard jumping in. I lunged toward the boy and gently pulled him up out of the water. “Are you okay?” I asked him. With fear in his eyes but no tears, he nodded yes.
I held him up until the lifeguard rushed in and whisked him away, out of the pool. I watched from afar as they checked the boy for signs of distress and reunited him with his mother. I watched the lifeguard show them the rack full of life jackets that are free for all to use and required for kids of his size.
From Sadie turning flips to holding the boy in my arms—the whole thing unfolded in seconds.
When it was all over and the boy was safe with his mother, Sadie said, “Mom it’s a good thing you were there.”
I felt the tears rise, blinking them away in the warm summer sun, freshly reminded of how fleeting life can be.
I don’t claim for a second to have saved that boy’s life. The lifeguard spotted him and would easily have reached him in time to pull him up. In doing her job well, she was an absolute hero that day.
But all at once, I did feel a strong sense of purpose for being at the water park—as one more set of eyes looking out for those who might need help. I will remember the look on that boy’s face bobbing beneath the water for the rest of my life. Without help from those around him—which happened to include me—his precious life was minutes away from over.
Where God is at Work
Thinking back to the guilt of coming to the water park, I was suddenly flooded with a different feeling—reassurance from the Lord that He can use our lives for good wherever we are.
At a water park on a Saturday afternoon.
At work on Monday morning.
On a sandy hike in Michigan.
Almost two months in to our yearlong road trip, we have had the opportunity to help others in small, unexpected ways.
At the RV park on Dam Neck, I noticed a couple backing into their site was about to wreck their trailer against a bollard pole and the site’s power/water post. I ran to the trailer and told Nick, who went out to see if they wanted his help. Boy did they. He helped them out of their parking pickle, narrowly avoiding banging up their very expensive rig and damaging the park’s equipment. Afterwards, the woman came up to Nick and said, “Thank you for saving our marriage.” (LOL!)
At an RV park in Ohio, a truck was about to back into a 3’ post. Nick shouted a warning, and the truck stopped just in time. The driver had no idea the pole was there, and we helped him avoid hitting it.
At an RV park in Dubois, Wyoming, our campground neighbors locked their keys in their motorhome. They managed to get a small window open from the outside but couldn’t get through it. We were eating dinner at our picnic table beside them, and Nate popped up, happy to climb up the ladder, dive inside their rig, unlock the door, and save the day.
At an RV park in Michigan, our kids met a 9-year-old boy and 11-year-old girl in the pool who didn’t know how to swim. Sadie and Nate spent their pool time teaching them how.
Sharing this list not to pat ourselves on the back, but as a reminder to everyone feeling hopeless watching tragedy unfold from afar that each of us has the ability to impact our world wherever we are, in ways big and small.
Our church recently shared a quote from the sermon series on Acts, which I am taking to heart on our journey.
“God is at work wherever God’s people are.”
For friends and family in Texas who have watched tragedy unfold in their communities, I can only imagine the heartbreak from this loss resurfacing as a new school year is underway. Please know we’re thinking about you and praying for you as you support your friends and neighbors through this unspeakable tragedy.
For our own church family in Virginia Beach receiving weekly updates about two of our beloved pastors fighting aggressive cancers, I hope this message lands on your heart with encouragement. There remains an abundance of good we can do to be a blessing in hurting world.
To our many military friends who relocated this summer and are navigating new schools and new homes at new duty stations, I hope you feel your days soon shift from settling in to sinking in to your new neighborhoods and communities. They are so fortunate to have you right where you are.
In today’s 24-hour shock-wave news cycle, the tragedies seem to never stop coming. In trusting the Lord to do what we can right where we are, we bring the depths of His goodness and love further into our lives, our communities, and our world.
May each of us, wherever we may be, look around our lives and, boldly, unknowingly perhaps, be an answer to someone else’s prayer today.
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” Philippians 4:8-9
Roberts on the Road
Magical sunset in Theodore Roosevelt National Park
For those just finding us, hello! Inspired by the Year of Jubilee in Leviticus 25, our family is on a yearlong RV road trip in 2025-2026 to celebrate my husband’s retirement after 20 years in Naval Special Warfare, as well as our 24 years together during the ups and downs of it all.
With our 12-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son in tow, this trip to explore America’s national parks and beautiful places is intended to help our family reflect and reset as civilian life begins.
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