Every night as I get in bed, I hear my little brother saying his bed time prayers. Sometimes, he'll ask me to pray with him and hearing the power of faith through his words makes me wish that I had that kind of faith at his age. One night in particular was the moment I realized something. Faith comes to each of us in different ways at different times. My brother came to know the Lord as his personal savior at the age of seven. It was a near death experience at the age of fourteen for me.
I was born and raised as a Baptist. My great grandpa was one of the founders of the church I grew up in. I loved going to church every Sunday and Wednesday and participating in special programs and plays. I never doubted my belief in God. I always knew I was a Christian but I never fully understood what it truly meant to have faith.
My freshman year my faith was tested. I came face to face with death when I almost drowned on my Spring Break vacation. Knowing I was not supposed to be in the water didn't keep me from venturing out into knee deep depths. It wasn't too rough, I could swim and it was shallow, so why not? In the midst of my splashing, I noticed I was deeper than I thought. I put my legs down to walk back up, only to realize, I couldn't touch. In a panic I plunged under water trying to reach the bottom, but there was nothing there except colder water. I was swept into the deep by an undertow. At this point, I could barely stay above water much less swim to shore. There was almost no one near- only a couple of tourists and a lonely fisherman. One of the tourists tried to save me but couldn’t swim, so he had to leave me to save himself. There I was, alone again…
After being tossed around like a ragdoll for what seemed like forever, I grew tired. My body ached and felt like a thousand needles were piercing my skin. I gave up. The only thing I could think was, "this is the end." All I had left was prayer so I began to talk to God. A sudden sense of peace overcame me and I became content with dying. I knew where I would end up, my family knew I loved them, that was all that mattered. As I glanced at the shore one more time, the beach was crowded. Blurry faces and pacing bodies. I locked my eyes on the fisherman. Watching his tranquil stride towards the crashing water put me in a trance. He seemed like everything was perfectly normal, not like there was a crisis. He took the time to put his fishing gear down, take his shirt off and slowly walked into the water. I let myself sink for the last time. Being pulled farther and farther under the water I could feel my breath leaving my body and a darkness surrounded me. I closed my eyes.
It was then that I felt a breeze. As I gasped for air an intense light hit my face. Wait... what's happening? I finally wrapped my mind around the fact that I was above the water and I looked around to find that I was being held by the fisherman. With calming words, he offered reassurance that I was going to be okay. His voice was relaxing. He started counting and the with one push my feet touched the ground. As I crawled to the safety of the shore, I looked back and saw the fisherman walking out of the water. There were flashing red and blue lights and loud voices filling my ears. Then everything was black again.
I awoke and immediately starting asking for my savior, the man who pulled me from my watery grave, the fisherman. But in return I got confused expressions and "there was no fisherman". At first, I was baffled. Then it hit me and a smile stretched across my face. He was no random fisherman, he was my angel. He truly was my savior. I thank God for offering me a second chance and testing my faith because now I know what it means to have that faith.
