True Vol. 2: 52 Stories about God Showing Up in the Every Day

Chapter One

OUT OF THE CHURNING WATERS"We felt we were doomed to die and saw how powerless we were to help ourselves; but that was good, for then we put everything into the hands of God, who alone could save us, for he can even raise the dead." -2 Corinthians 1:9-10, LB

When summer approached, my parents prepared for their yearly vacation to visit friends and relatives in far-off states. I'd gone with them numerous times across the scorching desert, following the never-ending white lines stretching for miles of highway. Now as a teenager I wanted the freedom to spend time with my friends, practice guitar, hike in the mountains, and swim in our pool. I finally persuaded my parents to leave me at home, convincing them I'd be perfectly safe while they were away.

The day dawned beautiful and warm in Southern California. With Mom and Dad gone I felt I could do whatever I liked. Having the house all to myself sounded good, but then my friend Ross called and asked if I wanted to go snorkeling at Newport Beach. He'd called to check on the surf conditions and found the day would be mild with a low undertow and clear visibility-perfect for snorkeling.

I did not have snorkeling equipment, so I borrowed some fins and a wet suit. The booties were missing, so I substituted tennis shoes. I tied the laces tightly on both sides around the fins' steel buckles.

Since daylight hours were much longer in the summer, we weren't too concerned about starting out late. By the time we arrived, it was still nice out, and the sandy beach looked beautiful with rhythmic waves splashing against the shoreline.

Ross and I swam out a good distance and dove, checking out the fish among the seaweed. We planned to dive down and look at shafts of sunlight that caused spectacular displays of fluorescent blue, green, and orange.

Ross stopped to break open a sea urchin so he could feed the fish surrounding us when he noticed the water becoming turbulent and murky. While surfacing a few moments later, he told me the conditions looked risky and we should make our way back to shore. Since the riptide was increasing, Ross suggested getting out of the water where large rocks provided a calm break in the surf.

I followed him with my snorkel up and face in the water. We progressed slowly, fighting the choppy current.

Finally, I felt my fins hitting the bottom and tried to stand up. But when I looked forward, I saw we were surrounded by a tunnel of water reaching up over our heads. The water had been drawn up between two rows of rocks that extended about a hundred yards into the ocean, spread about 15 feet apart. We'd been swimming in the middle of it!

Before I could react, what seemed like tons of water came crashing down on me.

Okay, God, here we go, I thought, as I spun around underwater holding my head, trying to protect myself. I then cried out, "God, please help us get out of this!" as the water tossed me from side to side in what appeared to be an impossible situation to escape.

The next thing I remember was rolling onto my side on top of a giant rock. I got to my feet and realized I'd been thrown completely out of the water and was now standing on a high cliff about 15 feet above the surf. Seconds before, I'd frantically tried to escape the churning mass and the danger of being crushed to death.

As I struggled to survive, God had swept me up and placed me in a safe place, high upon a rock. I gazed at the hazardous turbulence below and searched for Ross. "Oh, God," I prayed, "please save Ross, too!"

Moments later I shouted with relief when my friend ran toward me. He, too, had been thrown clear of danger. I gave him a bear hug as I joyfully pounded his back.

When I stooped down to evaluate my condition, I realized my feet hurt-the fins were gone, the steel buckles still dangling from the tennis shoe laces. The powerful waves had ripped the fins from my feet. My knee was bleeding from an abrasion underneath a four-inch cut in my wet suit. Otherwise I felt fine-no injuries a bandage couldn't handle. But when my sister Sheri saw me, she exclaimed, "Your bruises are huge!"

Several weeks later Mom questioned me: "Did anything dangerous happen while we were away?" Usually, I would've tried to evade or deny an answer. I didn't want her to think I couldn't handle my own life, but she had a different tone in her voice. When I confessed what had happened that day, she shared her amazing experience of how God had awakened her from sleep to pray for me. I confirmed it was no coincidence.

Mom said she and Dad had arrived in Pennsylvania on the day of our snorkeling scare. She retired early, weary from the trip, but an overwhelming urge to pray for me awakened her. Not knowing why I needed prayer, she asked for my protection and that whatever the circumstances God would be near and keep me safe. She told me she realized she could do nothing to protect me, and she placed me in God's hands.

In the aftermath of that terrifying event my friend and I stood in awe, watching the waves break far below the top of the cliff where we stood. We agreed God had rescued us; we could've been killed, hurled against those boulders. Without God's intervention neither of us could explain what had happened. We watched for a long time, astonished that the waves never once came anywhere near as high as the rock where we landed.

I often paraphrase David in Psalm 40:2 when I look back on that day: God pulled me out of the churning waters and placed me safely upon a rock.

Robert Dallas Mehl, as told to Loretta Miller Mehl

(Continues.)