The Turning Point

In one of my college classes years ago I was asked to write a non-fictional story about an event in my life. What I put on paper was my testimony of how I personally came to Christ. It’s my pleasure to share this story with you:

“The Turning Point”

As morning broke and the sun began to rise over the mountains, one could tell that the storm had passed leaving a cool breeze that taunted the summer heat. Days such as this were what my best friend, Billy, and I lived for.

I lived beside a beautiful mountain river that begged for attention. The calm ripples in the water led to large schools of trout that would entertain two adolescent boys all summer long. The trees that towered over the clear waters provided shade from the heat while allowing a sweet summer breeze to come slipping through. We were the products of purely innocent fun playing with Mother Nature until the sun slipped away.

The storm that passed the day before turned our calm playful river into a raging pit of chaos. The water level was higher than either of us had ever seen and was as brown as the dirt that stained our clothes. For two young boys to look at such uncontrolled power ignited emotions that neither of us had ever experienced. We were not about to stand back and let Mother Nature get the best of us. We were going to face her head on.

We had rafted this same river more times than either of us could count, but this would be our biggest challenge yet. This was monumental. This was our chance to become men.

We went to my house to share the news with my dad. He had rafted with us many times before and knew how excited we were to push in on this day. At first he was hesitant, but to hold two young boys back from facing manhood would be a paternal sin. He agreed and we were on our way.

As we headed for the river we picked up a wooden boat that a friend of my dad had custom built. It was as long as a car and as blue as the ocean. It had never tasted the chill of water, but would get more than a mouthful on this day.

As we approached the area where we always pushed in, we peered out into the river with pure shock. The once familiar calm and clear water that we waded in and fished for many summers was now bursting with waves higher than our heads. The water no longer hummed its sweet silent tune…it was roaring with anger. It was almost as if bears were hiding underneath the waves thrashing and growling about. It was almost enough to change two young boys’ minds. But we were no longer boys…we were young men, and men do not back down.
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