Phil the Platypus said:
I thought I'd posted here for the last time; I figured I'd shared a few words of comfort from the perspective of a distant brother in Christ, and would now step back and continue praying from afar as your community talks and grieves together. However, I now have one more thing I'd like to add (really a "correction" or "edit" of sorts to something I said five pages ago, back in mid-August). I think this will be a comfort to anyone who is afraid that the girls' final moments on earth were horrible, panic-stricken, and even painful.
In my first post here--near the top of page 113--I shared about a local man up here who lost his son last November and then had some sort of acute medical event during which he was able to see Jesus and even interact with his boy. I then remarked that it must've felt amazing for the girls to suddenly get the "everything's completely OK" feeling that he (and other people with similar experiences) described, and thought it must be one of their fondest memories.
Here's the part I missed, though, which I only found out more recently: Based on the consistent testimony of many people who have survived a near-drowning experience, while drowning, people begin to experience that feeling of peace and contentment while they're still alive! And the way they make it sound, it's not just the last few seconds either--some people say they got this experience even though they were rescued before they'd even begun to lose consciousness!
The other day, I saw one or two YouTube videos of people who had been resuscitated after drowning to within an inch of their lives, and they all talked about a feeling of peace that set in while they were under the water. What struck me about those videos, though, was the sheer volume of comments below them where people shared that they'd had very similar experiences, and had felt the same way. Here are some of the comments I saw:
"I [drowned] in a lake when I was young, 3 or 4 years old. I remember a large bubble of light above me illuminating the darkness of the deep water and I felt at peace. I wasn't struggling to [breathe] or go to the surface, I wanted to stay in that peace. There was no pain until the air hit my lungs again."
"When I was 4, I fell into the deep end of a public pool, lifeguard on duty, and sank like a rock. I remember extreme panic, then I felt warmth and peace, I remember thinking the bubbles were going into the sunlight and it was beautiful. Next thing I know, I'm throwing up beside the pool and crying. I stood up and someone said I was fine...I will never forget that peace and those beautiful bubbles."
These were just two of the numerous accounts I've seen of children who had drowning experiences that they survived; some of them said that they felt or even saw Jesus with them, while one that I can't find now mentioned that she felt this sense of peace even though she was being tossed around in very turbulent water. These stories give me hope that the girls who drowned in this flood were enveloped in peace for much of the time that they were still alive underwater, perhaps (dare I say "probably" or even "certainly"?) even to the point that they felt perfectly fine with the fact that they couldn't breathe or get to the surface.
I think I'm not the only one who had assumed that they might've felt horrible fear, panic, and discomfort all the way until the point that they died (or at least until they lost consciousness); it's such a relief to know that once they'd been underwater for a little bit, they probably felt the absence of those things for their last few minutes of not knowing what heaven looks like. It also completely changes my perception of stories like that of the Harber sisters who were found still holding hands, as I realize they probably finished out
I know this post is meant to bring comfort, but I think it risks distracting us from the reality of what happened. What's wrong with saying that the girls suffered? We need to honor their lives, not just make ourselves feel better as a Christian society.
It may feel easier to imagine they slipped away peacefully, but I think it's okay, and necessary, to admit the ugly, heartbreaking truth: they were scared, cold, and probably crying for their mothers. It makes me cry to say that, but I believe it honors them more to tell the truth than to soften it.
Personally, I believe with better safety measures and faster action, they could have been saved. I will believe that for the rest of my life -- that this was preventable. If we blur the harsh truth and self-soothe with happier thoughts, we risk turning away from the accountability and change needed to prevent this from ever happening again.
