Sarah and Danelle
Around eight years ago, my daughter Sarah and her friend Danelle spent a weekend at a remote cabin. The property, owned by Danelle’s family, is located near the Boulder River, south of Big Timber, Montana. The girls were in their early twenties, a time of life when it’s tempting to think you’re immortal. But that early spring day, they ended up in a perilous situation.
They headed out on a four-wheeler to find another friend’s cabin, which they thought was only a few miles away. The damp air felt cool with temperatures in the forties. Danelle remembers patches of snow still on the ground.
Following the river, they eventually came to a narrow bridge. They’d need to cross it, but the gate was locked. They tried climbing around the gate to the outside ledge of the bridge, but that didn’t work. So, rolling up their pants the girls decided to cross the river, stepping from boulder to boulder. The hip-high current of white roiling water was nearly twenty-five yards wide. The girls got a little wet in the process.
Snowmelt water is dangerously cold, and they didn’t actually know the location of the other cabin. Without the four-wheeler, they wouldn’t make much progress. The girls soon realized the futility of their plan and turned back. But when they got to the four-wheeler, the key was missing. It had been in Danelle’s coat pocket.
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a key quite that small. The black head is the size of a nickel, and the silver metal part is thin and only a ¾ of an inch long. The girls searched frantically around the four-wheeler and in all their pockets. Sarah even crossed over the rocks to comb the other shore.
Still no key.
They were in the middle of nowhere. No cell coverage, no car or truck likely to pass by. No one to help. To walk back to Danelle’s cabin in their compromised condition would have been dicey. They were miles away. Hypothermia catches many people off guard. It’s tragically easy to underestimate the elements in Montana.
Danelle and Sarah gazed at the river with wondering eyes. Panic set in.
Sarah said, “Let’s pray.” So they paused and asked God for help. Afterwards, Sarah retraced their steps across the river. Danelle yelled, “If you find that key in the river… I’ll believe that God is real!”
My daughter worked her way across the fast-moving water. You couldn’t see the bottom at all. By one specific boulder, she felt God say, “Here.” She stripped down to her underwear to keep her clothes mostly dry. Still, she’d have to go into the water—a risky choice given the temperatures. There was no other way.Continue reading
