I’ve mentioned before that as a teenager I was pretty apathetic toward the Church. That isn’t too say I didn’t care about God, though. On the contrary, I still had a belief in God. I just didn’t attach that belief very strongly to His church.
I remember one particular experience vividly which reminds me that my belief in God never wavered, though at times perhaps my faith did.
When I was 15, our Venture group decided we would hike and camp in the Kananaskis Mountains near Calgary, Alberta. We had just finished a wonderful, scenic experience and decided to camp over at a public campsite in Cochrane, as it was getting late.
Everyone but two of my friends and I slept in the van. We decided to set up a tent and sleep in the outdoors one more night. Besides, 12 of us made for a crowded van.
About an hour or so after we hit the hay and were chatting about our trip, the wind began to pick up. It wasn’t long before our tent started flapping in the strong blows. And then it started raining. We could hear the drops, amplified by the wind, pelt our puny, thin tent. We were sure our tent would be destroyed.
We discussed what we should do, and it was determined that we should pray that we should be kept safe from the storm. That we did. We prayed that the tent could remain standing and that we would be kept safe from harm.
Not long after, a voice yelled from the van for us to come inside. We left the tent and slept the night in the van.
The next morning, we emerged from the van all heavy-eyed and smelling of a week’s worth of campfire smoke. We walked around the back f the van, and there was the tent. Still standing. Completely dry inside.
That experience taught me two valuable lessons that day. Prayer can be a powerful tool and our God has a great love for His children.
