Caught in a Raging River

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. 

Angel on a Bridge

 

Week of August 24

 

“Occasionally I see reports of happenings that can not be humanly explained-of visitors unexpectedly appearing to assist in times of crisis, or warning of impending danger. These can only be explained as the Intervention of God’s angels.”

      Bill Graham, Hope For Each Day

 

When I was 19 years old I lived in Tracy, California, and had been out with some friends in Stockton, about 20 miles away.  I was driving home alone about 2 am on old Highway 50. The highway splits into two high narrow bridges over the San Joaquin River, one for north bound and one for south bound traffic. The bridges are steep so that you can’t see the other side until you get to the top. 

 

There was no traffic on the road at that hour and I was traveling the speed limit. I was in the left hand lane going up the south-bound bridge when, for some unexplained reason, I steered into the right hand lane. A moment later I was in the middle of the bridge when out of nowhere, a car came speeding the wrong way in the lane I had just left.

If I hadn’t changed lanes there would have been a head on collision in the middle of that high and narrow bridge. There was nowhere to go except over the edge into the river below.  I know that I would not have survived the crash or the river.

 

 Decades later I still shiver at the thought of what could have happened that night.  There was no reason for me to change lanes. I was saved by an angel that night, I’m absolutely sure. 

 

“For he shall give his angels charge over you,

to keep you in all your ways.” Psalm 91:11

 

Mary (Kiser) Bartlein

Panther Ridge, Florida

 

(Tracey California  where Mary grew up is

very close to the Earth Quake that devastated

the Nappa Valley Saturday.

God's Lessons from a Red Couch

 

Week of August 18,2014

 

Dean and I were trying to wait to buy a nice couch set once I got a full-time job. Our living room consisted of a huge pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. Since I was working from home and had to deal with no comfy place to sit all day, I talked Dean into considering second-hand couches on Craigslist that we could get right away. Our budget was $50, but I saw a red couch in great shape online for $75.

 

My husband agreed to go out with me to see it. Unfortunately, it had rained that day and the folks selling it had stored it outside under a ripped plastic tarp and it was pretty wet. Dean also noticed a stale smell.

 

I wanted a couch so badly that I was willing to overlook the smell and dampness. I thought we could just wash it! Dean was set  against it and I was really disappointed. We had an argument in which he said he thought God had something better in store for us. I told him that I thought he had just missed what God had for us and proceeded to walk off!

 

 Later that night, we both apologized and decided to go out to Goodwill stores the next day.

 

In the morning our cat, Billow, accidentally scratched my eyelid (ouch!), so we didn't head out until the afternoon and I was wearing an eye patch. Two Goodwill's later, It was ten minutes to 5 when a Goodwill employee told us to check out the Salvation Army around the corner.

 

Sure enough, a red, dry and nice-smelling couch in great condition was on sale for $50. The store was closing in 10 minutes and we agreed right away that it was the one! Everyone at the store was being very nice to me too, perhaps because of the eye patch. After a few minutes, a friend was able to drive over in her pick-up truck and help us take it home.

 

Lessons I learned: Be patient. Don't grasp so tightly to material things that I blow up at my husband (and look like a fool)! Trust God. I think He actually does care about the little things in my life too.

 

Jessica , Mcleod

Greensboro, North Carolina

A Boy Challenges God

Week of August 10, 2014

 

It started like any other day for Jay, a nine -year-old, but what happened next would change his life in an instant.

 

Jay’s parents had moved into a new subdivision in Woodhaven Woods, Michigan. The homes were new and had flat backyards with no fences. All the yards backed into a wood line fifty yards deep. It was a great place for a youngster to grow up and play.

 

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

 

Jay describes that afternoon as very windy with 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. What goes through a nine-year-olds mind anyway?

 

“I saw the trees swaying and I 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 some distance away I could see it was the forked tree that had fallen.

Some adults gathered around the forked tree as I ran over to see. It was then I saw that it was the solid half of the forked tree that had cracked all the way to the ground. Surprisingly, the decayed half was still standing by itself. You could look right through and see light on the other side. I don’t know what was holding up that half of the decayed tree. 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 a soul about what I had said for the longest time. I guess I thought this was between God and me.

 

Until 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 Woods, Michigan

A Comfirmation

 Week of July 27th

          Like most empty-nesters, we had two cars:  A luxury sedan for Bill and a sporty SUV for me.  When Bill was diagnosed with brain cancer and had to be driven to chemo treatments, he became the passenger in the sedan because the smooth leather seats made it easy for him to pivot while getting in and out.  The cloth seats in my vehicle didn’t quite do the trick.  He just plain enjoyed being in that car!

            As Bill’s condition worsened, we realized that we no longer needed two cars, so our youngest son was given my little car.  When Bill entered hospice care at home, I drove the sedan on the days I was able to go to the office for part of the day and for all the errands.

            After Bill died, I tried hard to like his car as much as I had my “old” one.  It was a lovely automobile, and as much as I appreciated its features, it just didn’t please me.  Another son with two children needed to replace a troublesome car, so I knew I could pass the sedan along to him and keep it in the family.  I felt Bill would be pleased to have some grandchildren riding in it!

            So a trip to the dealer produced a sporty little red sedan that won my heart right away.  No trade, not much paperwork, and the car would be ready for pickup the following day.  That night, of course, doubt came to visit.  Had I been callous to Bill’s memory not to cherish his car?  Was it my duty to keep it spiffy and on the road for as long as it would last?  I decided to claim the new car.

            When I saw it sitting on the lot, all shiny and cute and waiting for me, I knew I’d been guided to the purchase and that all was well.  How did I know?  The numbers on MY (not Bill’s) car’s license plate had been 5603.  The brand new plates, supplied by the dealer, ended in 5604.  A most logical progression that my engineer husband would certainly have appreciated!

                                                                       

Rosemarie Seewagon
Hilton, New York

Lawn Sale

 

Week of July 20th

 

It wasn’t your typical yard sale. For me it was a desperation move. I was down to my last six dollars. I needed gas to get to work, the electric bill was overdue and my water would be shut off if I didn’t pay it by Monday. It would be six days before I received another paycheck and I was already one month behind in my rent as well as some smaller bills.

 

My wife and I were separated and I had recently been diagnosed with Hepatitis C. I had no money for medications. I really was at the end of my rope. I needed this yard sale to survive one more day.

 

A friend arrived for moral support and I asked him if he would pray with me. We stood together in my empty living room.

 

He prayed, “Lord bless my friend and help him though this situation. Without you we are nothing but with your blessing we know we can get through anything. You said Lord, ‘Come to me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ We are here Lord and we need your help, Amen.”

 

Everything I owned was out on my lawn except my mattress, clothes and the computer on which I couldn’t make the payments.

 

During the first hour I sold $80 worth of furniture including my couch, end table and some lamps. The flow of potential buyers slowed considerably during the second hour and I took in just $20 more. During a lull the phone rang so I dashed into the house to answer it.

The lady on the phone said, “You gave me a quote to paint my house several months ago. Does your offer still stand?”

 

I could feel myself starting to shake but I managed to say calmly, “It sure does.”

 

“How soon can you start?“ “Lady I’ll be there this afternoon for the one third down payment so I can buy your paint.”

 

I rushed outside to retrieve my kitchen table and chairs from the lawn. Then I told my friend about the call. “I made a bid to paint a lady’s house six months ago and she calls me back today of all days. Go figure.”

 

My friend looked at me with a smile on his face and tears were forming in his eyes. He said softly, "That call was prompted by the Lord answering our prayer for help."

 

Patrick Lavilla

Kuntz,,Texas

God and my Cancer

Week of July 13

 

Facing your mortality at 45.

The disbelief- is this whole God thing a hoax? Is there really a heaven? When this cancer kills me, will I really be with God or is this just something we human make up to feel better?

Answer-forget the feelings, go with the FAITH, what you know about God, what His Word says, what He has done. He has been faithful in the little things and WILL be faithful in the big things.

I remember singing in a small weak, trembling, teary voice, “my hope is based on nothing less then Jesus’ love and righteousness.” Then a chorus of angels sang with me; “On Christ the solid rock I stand all other ground is sinking sand, all other ground is sinking sand.”

God knows about this cancer. He knew about it before I was born. He will use this for His glory and I will be ok, even when I die.

People’s reactions to my cancer varied. “Can I call a prayer meeting at your house and we will all pray for you?” (that was an awesome night)

“Though you slay me, yet I serve you,” quoted a friend.

“Wow are you lucky! God must have something really important in mind for you in this trial. He is preparing you for a mighty work.”

“I wish I could take your place. If I could I would. (my mom said this)

I kept track of God’s provision, protection, mercy and lessons in my cancer. God sent me a friend that had chemo, and one who was in healthcare so was not afraid of my cancer and was nonchalant. There were prayer warriors, card senders and one  who called every day to check on me and one who came on the darkest day I had and held me as a cried and when I was inconsolable, read scripture to me.

Friends brought me food, took me to chemo, even changed my kitty’s litter. One person asked me if she could see me without my hair and her love and concern was a source of comfort to me. (note: loosing my hair was devastating)

God kept providing and protecting me.

One night I was desperate, alone and scared. I called out to God the way He directs us to call Him in Psalm 50:15.( “Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you…”) My fears and confusion were so overwhelming that all I could do was cry out to him like a child waking from a nightmare calls his parents. I cried out GO000D! 

Shortly after this the phone rang.  It was a dear sister in the Lord who was out of town but had been thinking of me all day. In the middle of a dinner party with friends, she could no longer resist God’s prompting in her heart, excused herself to call and check on me.

One night I was too sick to make something to eat or even know what I wanted to eat. I just told God ‘if you want me to eat you better bring it to my door or else I will just lie on this couch and not eat.’  Minutes later the phone rang. It was a friend and when she found out how I was feeling she said; “Its time for smoothies.”  That night she introduced me to smoothies, which are a must for anyone on chemo.

A week after my first chemo I started teaching a small (church) group. They did not know me before my cancer. They only knew me on chemo and without hair. They ministered to me, prayed over me, laid hands on me, gave me self worth and loved me. We even had a night when we tried on hats together. They were the first to see me when my hair started to grow back.

I knew the cancer was in the lymph nodes even when the doctors did not think so at first.

In the recovery room from my second surgery, the hospital chaplain asked me to pray for him. I spent the night in the hospital and the doctor brought all his students in several times. They referred to me as the ‘smiling patient.’

I felt the prayers of others that lifted me up especially when I was too sick and too tired to pray.

On the morning when I was going back to Moffit (Cancer Center) for my first follow-up, I asked God to send me a Christian woman  who lived in Sarasota and who had suffered with breast cancer to guide and comfort me. On the way home, my friend who had taken me to Moffit told me she ran into an old friend of hers while she was waiting for me and that this friend had just finished her treatment and was coming back for a check up. (Prayer answered)

Scriptures God sent me to (rhema)

Matthew 26:39 -Three times in the Garden Jesus asked for the cup be taken from Him.

John 17- the last prayer Jesus prayed was for us that we reflect His love, that  God protect us from Satan and that we know His love for us. He did not pray for good times and fun here on earth. He actually knew we would suffer because we follow him.

Isaiah 29:15- the pot can not ask the potter why he made the pot a certain way. I can’t ask God why I got cancer-He knows everything and I must respect His knowledge despite circumstances or my opinion of them.

2 Corinthians 1:2-5 God will comfort us in our pain and we in turn will comfort those in pain with the comfort God has shown us. I use what I learned in my cancer to comfort those in need.

 

(What she learned:)

freedom from worry, well almost ha ha;

a better focus on what is important-less time working, more time serving, loving and living;

it is ok to be weak, to let others know you are hurting, well almost ha ha;

surrender, surrender, SURRENDER! We really don’t have any power anyway, except through Christ.”

Sheree Motola                                                                                                                              

Printed with permission

 (We received this e-mail in 2001. Sheree left this world in June 2006-ed)