I get these writing prompts recommended to me every day by this website. Some of them are pretty simple, while others are obscure and completely non-applicable for me. As someone who’s never experienced what a relationship is like or what going bar-hopping is like, I think it makes sense that I wouldn’t really be able to write about those things coherently. I’m also not going to go off and imagine it either, because those are just dreams and not reality. If I’m going to write about something, it’s something I have genuine experience with.

Then, today, I got a prompt which was right up my alley: spirituality. I’ve been meaning to get into why my faith is what it is now, and this provided a good enough excuse. I have many stories from the last few years I could bring up, but I’m only going to focus on one, because I have things to do.

Let’s go back to a much simpler time: 2019.

I know, I know, 2019 wasn’t exactly a simple time, either. I remember all of the protests happening in Iraq and Chile, the first Trump impeachment, the Venezuelan presidential crisis, etc. However, compared to where we are now, I would argue that the world was only slightly easier to stomach then compared to now. Where we are now is not only far more uncertain, it’s also far more complicated.

Anyways, enough about that, back to my story. I can’t exactly remember which month this happened, but I do remember it being after March and before July. I was in a van headed down south to go to a summer camp where I was planning on volunteering/working at during July, and I was going there early for a sort of staff retreat. The whole idea was pretty relaxed: go there for a few nights, get to know some new people, and meditate on the Word of God. I knew most of the people already going, but I didn’t see that as a big deal.

The drive down was not fun. Now, it wasn’t because I disliked the car we were in, or the people I was with, I was very good friends with all of them and we all got along fine. Instead, my mind was very cloudy. The first half of 2019 was a pretty tough time for me emotionally, there was a lot of family drama and stuff happening that really started to take its toll on me as the months went on. Before I had left that afternoon to get to the camp, I remember having an argument with one of my parents over some of the drama I mentioned before, and needless to say, it was on my mind while I was in the car.

That didn’t change once we got there and settled down. Sure, I was having fun hanging out with the guys and it was cool to see some people I hadn’t seen in a few years, but my heart was pounding and my throat was tight. I wasn’t just frustrated with everything, I was pissed. In my mind, I was asking God all sorts of questions, most of them in anger. I couldn’t understand why everything was so stressful, why my family was dealing with so much brokenness and hard feelings. Nothing made sense.

Now, before I get into the meat of what happened, let me make it clear: before this entire story, I did believe in God and I understood basic tenets of the faith. I understood that we all sinned and that Jesus died for them, but something I had really struggled with was the idea that bad things still happened even though God was in command, which is something many still struggle with to this day. I talked about this before in a previous post, and that was something I only really learned after this day in particular. After this day, I started reading the Bible a little more and I eventually got answers to the questions that I was asking (then in anger) and before. But what happened to turn everything around for me? Why did all of this happen in the first place? Why am I here talking about it now?

Well, after some worship and snacks, I started to feel bad about how negative I was being on the inside, and I decided to go outside to where we normally had campfires. It was pitch black, very cloudy, and a harsh wind was blowing in. Of course, I couldn’t really see where I was going, so I turned on my phone’s flashlight to be able to see. When I got down there, I remembered that the logs where we sat at when we had the fire going were all right by the lake that our camp was built by, so I walked over to the little beach that was there. Without really thinking about it, I knelt down and looked down the lake. The sand and pebbles were very cold, and the wind was getting louder and more violent than before. I then began to pray out loud, which I don’t normally do. I normally say quick prayers in my mind during the day, and that was still the case back then.

Easier said than done. The wind was becoming so loud that I could barely hear myself over it, and coupled with my bad ear, everything was drowned out. Despite that, I kept trying to get the words out, but nothing was working. Then, that anger came back. It was different this, time, however.

Instead of being angry at God for why everything sucked, I was angry at God because I felt that he wasn’t listening to me. I thought that the wind growing in strength was him tuning me out. Part of me thought that it was OK in a way, because I had been really unfair in my thoughts before, but another part of me was furious. It was almost like trying to talk to a brick wall.

So, I yelled at him. I grabbed a handful of rocks and threw them into the lake. I shouted all sorts of things at him, and none of them were good. All my anger was pouring out on the beach, and it was almost physically painful to do that.

Then, the wind stopped.

It just… stopped?

Full silence, no noise asides from the water shuffling around in the lake and my really heavy breathing. The branches of the tree stopped shaking, the blades of grass were still, and I was strangely very warm when I had been very cold before. Of course, I was really confused. How did a wind like that just stop? Then, it clicked for me.

I calmed down, apologized, and started to pray again, this time with a clearer mind. Once I was done, I got up, dusted off my legs, walked back up to the chapel, and went inside. The wind picked up right where it stopped after I closed the doors.

I know some may hear that story and disregard it. I can understand why in a way, they may not believe in any God and they may just point to strange weather patterns. Sometimes, the wind does slow down but pick up quickly afterwards. The weather is a strange thing sometimes, which I’ve also written about before.

But in that moment on that beach, I could tell that there was something different. I can’t explain the warmth I felt after the wind stopped like that. It was a similar sensation to when I was around a girl I had a crush on a few months later, and it also came with a sense of true peace. In that moment, there was nothing to fear, nothing to be angry about, and everything was as it should have been.

In that moment, I felt God was responding to me, reaching out to help me find where I was going wrong and what I could do about it. I took up his offer then and there, and ever since that day (and year in general), my faith has never been stronger. I wake up thanking God every day for my life and the people he has blessed me with, knowing that I deserve none of it. But, by his grace and his son’s death on the cross, I am saved.

Without that day, I’m not here typing this. And I thank God for the opportunity I have to share my story.