Cover Story

The Key to Safety

Add Comment :: Send to a Friend :: View Comments ::

I may seem to come up lacking in the faith department, but a few summers ago, before this story took place, your humble storyteller didn’t believe that he would ever experience a miracle. Don’t get me wrong: I believed that they were real, but it seemed that all those epic adventures in which God performed some breathtaking, physics-defying stunt always happened to someone else. However, my miracle theory was completely blown out of the water one afternoon when God decided to break out His people-saving skills upon my friends and me.

Work ethic

One week, during a quite eventful summer vacation, I, along with my friends Doug, Karl, and Rant, was employed by Mr. Thorne, one of the more well-off members of our church, to help tidy up his ridiculously large estate. He had a plethora of work, and the four of us jumped at the opportunity to receive some income. When separated, each individual was a good worker; however, when together, we became a labor machine about as useful as a stringless guitar. The week spent on Mr. Thorne’s property was one filled with me instigating a prank war on my friends, with them returning the favor by pranking me, and then me getting them back. Although we managed to get the work done, our work pace was exceedingly slow, and we ended up having to spend a few extra days to finish.

The key

It was on the fifth day that the incident occurred. Blissfully unaware of the impending calamity, Karl, Rant, and I arrived at the work scene on time, and with some deliberation, in which we used much impeccable logic, we concluded that starting work without Doug would be wrong. How unfair to exclude him from valuable work experience.

After a while Doug finally arrived and, in an attempt to save face, offered a vague excuse about his alarm not working. Being kind and understanding, Karl, Rant, and I ruthlessly mocked his less-than-exceptional work ethic and began questioning his intelligence based on his failure to operate an alarm clock.

Our main task that day was to clean out Mr. Thorne’s enormous basement, and eventually we got to work. In the process of organizing the vast arrangement of tools and other accessories in the underground lair, I happened upon a solitary key that rested on top of a toolbox we were about to move. I placed the key into my pocket, thinking that I would return it to Mr. Thorne later, which would officially solidify my rightful position as top worker in his eyes. The four of us continued to work for another couple hours before unanimously deciding to eat lunch.

Storm brewing

By this time the sky had turned an ominous gray and the clouds were about to unleash a fury of raindrops. Now, I can’t exactly explain the thought process that went into this decision, but somehow, using brilliant wisdom, we decided to eat alongside a creek about a half mile from the house. We trekked downhill until we reached a wooded area where the creek ran through and where a small sturdy-looking shed sat.

The sky had now shifted to an angry shade of gray. Not wanting to appear wimpy before one another, we each decided not to mention the impending storm. We started eating, and for a few short minutes everything was OK. Then it started to rain—violently. Quickly gathering our food, we began making our way back when all of a sudden  . . . it happened.

A tornado began to form about halfway up the path before us. I immediately became extremely religious and quickly offered up a “God, please help!” prayer. We fled to the shed, only to find the door locked. I began to accept my fate when an audible voice rang in my head: “Use the key!” I took the key out of my now-soaked pocket and unlocked the shed door, much to the amazement of my drenched friends. We huddled inside and initiated the most intense prayer session I have ever been involved in.

“God,” I prayed, “I know You have the power to save us from this storm. You have given Your word that You will protect your followers from even the most dangerous of circumstances. Please, if it be Thy will, allow us to make it through this storm. We are putting our trust in the love You have for us.” I continued to come up with creative ways to ask God to save my life. Throughout this experience we could hear loud crashes outside our shed fortress, as well as a roaring wind that sounded as if it were approaching the speed of light. The storm eventually subsided, and we stumbled out of the shed, feeling like Noah after the Flood. We praised God again and again.

A deeper trust

Outside, the ground was a wreck. Fallen trees were scattered everywhere, some dangerously close to our shed. We traveled back to Mr. Thorne’s house, which hadn’t sustained any damage, only to find that Mr. Thorne had safely slept through the entire ordeal.

I told him the story of how God allowed me to find the shed key, and then saved us from the tornado. He was quite impressed and, after viewing his now-trashed property, offered to extend our employment so we could help clear the fallen trees.

My life has never been quite the same since. It marked the beginning of me learning to trust in God more. Over the next few years we have had many more exciting adventures together, and God has faithfully helped me in all of my endeavors.   
           
Christopher Marx (a pen name) is a young man in the South who enjoys sports and participating in his church’s various outreach programs.

Add Comment :: Send to a Friend :: view comments ::

Comments

Vicente
Thank you Lea! I'm glad the topic helped you as well. I've been lairneng since then that it is much harder to be vulnerable than open! As far as a church, I am a member of the Austin Christian Church (www.austinchurch.net).
Flag as Inappropriate