Week of September 1
Note:
These real experiences are intentionally shared in the original voice of
the teller with editing for clarity, syntax and sometimes length.
Week of September 1
It is summer 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. 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 my paying position is 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 dept 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.
Suddenly 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 below.
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 and says, “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, Ma.
Reprinted from Go Figure America with permission.
