A Boy Challenges God

 

Week of June 23

 

It started like any other day for Jay, an eight-year-old going on nine thank you, but what happened that afternoon would change his life in a flash.

 

Jay was growing up in a new subdivision in Woodhaven Woods, Michigan where his dad was serving as a minister. The homes were new and had flat back yards with no fences and all backed into a wood line fifty to seventy yards deep. It was a great place for an eight year old to grow up and play.

 

Most of the trees were hardwoods, like oak and maple, tall and straight. All except one as Jay remembers. That tree was forked about four feet up. One fork was badly decayed and hollow near its base while the other was solid and healthy.

 

Jay remembers the afternoon was very windy, lots of threatening clouds but it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t raining. He was standing in his yard when he challenged God. He doesn’t know what prompted him. He just did. What goes through and eight year olds mind anyway? Jay tells it this way.

 

 “ I saw the trees swaying and said, ‘Ok God. You knock over a tree and I will never doubt you again.’ Within seconds there was a loud crack. Even though

 

I was several hundred yards away but I could see it was the forked tree that had fallen. Some parents gathered around the forked tree and I went over to see. It was then I saw that the solid half of the forked tree had cracked all the way to the ground and toppled. Surprisingly, the decayed half was still standing. You could look right threw and see light on the other side. I don’t know what was holding that tree up. It looked as if it would fall over at any minute so the parents were keeping the children at a safe distance.

 

I thought about it later. God knocked over the strong but held up the weak. You could read into that. The weak half of that tree never did fall on its own. Some men cut it down later to insure it wouldn’t fall on anyone.

 

I didn’t tell anyone about this experience for the longest time. I guess I thought that was between God and me. Even now, decades later I have only shared this experience with a few others for fear of being seen as bragging or worse. But there is no doubt in my mind that God felled the strong half of that tree that day.

 

Jay Hessler

Woodhaven, Michigan

(Mr. Hessler now resides in Florida-Ed)

Facing a Tsunami

Week of June 16

 

  I was stationed in the Aleutian Islands as a chaplain for the United States Air Force. Our particular island , Shemya, was shaped like an oyster and was just large enough to have one important airstrip.

 

One night a tremendous earthquake broke open the deep water of the Bay of Alaska and sent tons of surge water ( a tsunami) toward our island. The high flood water, much higher than our island, was to hit us at about 3 a.m.

 

We had 3,600 men on the island, but only one surface craft for about 200. The idea of evacuation was abandoned.

 

Hundreds of men and officers gathered in the chapel on the high side of the island. Our highest elevation was about 18 feet and we were warned to expect about forty feet. Every light was on in the chapel. We had both large and small prayer services and the men periodically sang songs of all faiths and wrote letters. Many men sat alone thinking of their families and what the impending death by drowning would be like.

 

At about 4 a.m. the wave came. There was a strong gush of wind and high water, but nothing like the predicted 40 feet. The island of Adak, lying 400 miles to the east broke the wave in two, with one half going into the Bearing Sea and the other toward Hawaii.

 

We were spared. Lots of water (ranging from15 to 18 feet) and a lot of mopping up, but there were no casualties. Not a single life was lost. The water came as far as the Chapel steps. Our faith had been lifted by total trust and dependence on God, and he came to our rescue.

 

Lionel W. Nelson, USAF retired

Sunny Side Village, Sarasota

 

“Copyright©2003, Sarasota Herald-Tribune.Reprinted with express permission of the Sarasota-Herald Tribune.”

God and a Raging River

 

Week of June 10

 

It is June and time for our annual family reunion camping along the banks of the Raven Fork River.  Only this yearly outing with the family will change the course of my life.

 

On the drive from Florida to Cherokee, North Carolina my wife and I talk about the offer made by the pastor of our community church in Sarasota. He wants me to serve as Interim Children’s Director on a six-month trial basis. I have served the children’s ministry as a volunteer for several years while managing a restaurant for a national chain.

 

My heart is with the children but my head and my wife are saying it would be financially irresponsible to take an interim position for six months while a committee searches for a director. Besides, I would have to take a pay cut and with a wife and two children to support that would be fiscal stupidity.

 

We arrive at the campsite in a steady drizzle. Most of the families are gathered under a large tent fly. We join them for lunch. After the meal I decide to go fishing where I often do some of my best thinking.

 

 

The Raven Fork has eight-foot banks opposite the campground and is relatively shallow ranging in depth from calf deep to waist deep.

 

I put on waders and rain gear and proceed into the calm water. Most of the adults are playing cards under the tent fly while Pete, my brother-in-law, watches me fish from the bank.

I am so engrossed in fishing that I am oblivious to what is happening around me. The flow of the water has picked up and the river has been rising. The water suddenly changes color to a muddy brown and the depth where I am standing goes from waist deep to almost chest deep. This gets my attention and I sense the danger.

 I take a step toward the near bank, this is a big mistake. The river is deeper on this side and instantly my waders fill with water and drag me down like a sinker.

 

I am struggling to regain my footing and get to the surface. I'm in trouble and being propelled backwards by the rushing water.

 I I hit a boulder with such force that it pops me upright to the surface like a bobber. I stand there, breathing heavily and leaning forward to stay upright with the water pushing against my chest. I am unable to move. This is serious.

My brother-in-law is frantically yelling for the other men, who soon appear on the bank above me. They lower an inflated tube with a rope tied to it but it does not reach.

 

Next they throw the inner tube but it blows past me and is punctured somewhere downstream when it hits a sharp rock or pointed stump. Someone finds another piece of rope and ties it to the first rope. The men lower a now deflated tube tied on the longer rope. After a couple of attempts this one reaches me and I wrap the rope around my hand.

 

When the men pull on the rope I am immediately projected prone in the water and with the river pushing against me my rescuers are nearly pulled off the bank into the racing water.

 

It takes all the strength of those ten men and older boys to hold me against the current. Gradually they ease me to the bank, which is terraced with rocks held in place by a wire mesh. I am able to grab a tree growing out of the bank and I hold on while some men crawl gingerly down the bank and help me out of the water to safety.

 

Later standing on top of the embankment several of us watched logs, branches and other debris being propelled down river by the rushing water. A large log shot right over where I had been standing helpless against the river. That could have been fatal.

I learned firsthand the power of water and how fast things can change. I see now how people can be caught in flash floods, something I didn’t fully appreciate before.

 

Pete interrupts my musings. “Chris you have to see this,” he says holding the rope in his hands, “this is how close we came to losing you.”

 

What had been my lifeline is frayed so badly that the rope in one spot is down to a single strand that my brother-in-law proceeds to snap with his fingers.

 

On reflection, I think God was testing me that afternoon. I could easily have drowned if I hadn’t hit that rock, which stood me up providing time for others to help me in my distress. As I thought about my life ending in that river I asked myself, did I want to be just a restaurant manager or did I want to be a teacher of God’s children?

 

I decided to take the position of Interim Director of Children’s Ministry.

 

Chris Cahill,
Pittsfield,  Massachusetts