It was 6:00am. 80 seventh graders and 13 adult chaperones—who had driven six hours out of Phoenix—arrived at the ocean before the sun rose. They boarded a boat to Catalina Island, anticipating a day of fun and some scientific education.

About an hour into the boat trip, the sea roughened, and a storm rumbled over the water. The passengers began to feel very queasy. As queasiness turned into sickness, some of the kids had a hard time making it to the bathroom with their stomach expulsion. At one point, a seventh-grade girl was asking a chaperone something when her stomach decided to fire, and the chaperone got a whole bunch of you-know-what in his face and ear.

After a few hours of rough sailing, the captain decided to turn the boat around and take everyone to shore. The group made it back to dry land with empty, worn-out stomachs.

When I heard this story from my extended family members who experienced it, I envisioned the different types of people on that seasick boat. All the passengers were experiencing the choppy waters, but I imagine there were three groups with different responses: 1) those who needed someone to take care of them, 2) those who were able to take care of themselves, and 3) those who took care of others.

When I told my three daughters the story about the boat trip, I told them that as Stocktons—and more importantly, as Christians—we are supposed to be that third type of person, the kind that takes care of others.

I am not saying it is wrong to occasionally be in a position where you need someone to take care of you. Life hits hard, and we need to be okay with asking for help when we need it. And I am not saying it is wrong to take care of yourself; sometimes all God is asking you to do is to get yourself to a healthy place. But more than these things, the life of Jesus (and the lives of his followers) included a whole lot of caring for others.

There are many ways to be this type of caring-for-others person. I told my daughters (who are very different from each other) that they each provide care in different ways.

My oldest daughter, for example, is decisive, protective, and strong. I told her that in the boat situation her job would be to keep her eyes on the captain to help him make decisions and warn of possible threats. She would also make sure to keep people out of the storm and away from the railings.

My middle daughter is abounding in mercy, tenderness, and compassion. I told her she would be going around rubbing people’s backs to comfort them. If she found someone who was freaking out, she’d grab their hands, tell them to look into her eyes, and encourage them to breathe deeply.

My youngest daughter is courageous, fun, and loves to be helpful. I told her she would be showing people where the bathroom is, handing them buckets, opening windows, and assuring people that they would be laughing about the situation when it was over.

I understand that there is a risk that, by telling my daughters how I envisions them serving, I might put too strong of an expectation on them; they are still forming their identity and calling. But I think there is a much greater danger involved if I failed to help them discover who they are. I want them to know as early as possible and as clearly as possible who Jesus made them to be and how they are uniquely fashioned to beautifully impact this world. When you know how Jesus made you, life gets full and fun and fulfilling.

Lord, help us each be this “third kind of person,” serving others like Jesus and not shying away from rough waters. Help us meet crises and challenges in the way you have in mind and, as a result, may people be saved and protected, healed and comforted, and lifted and encouraged.

David