Proof The Bible Is True

Lake Havasu City, Arizona, where my grandparents lived, was a different world from what we were familiar with in our California neighborhood. Their house on the outskirts of town felt like the very edge of civilization when we visited that summer I was 13 and my brother Scott was 10. We didn’t have a boring moment, exploring all we could.

 

We hiked and climbed across desert, canyons and washes, despite the August heat. We went “skiing” down the low hills close to my grandparents’ house, scampering to the top and sliding all the way down on our feet through the sand, stones and loose shale.

 

As fun as it was, we knew the desert could be dangerous too, especially during the month the locals called monsoon season. Nearly every August afternoon, starting around 2 or 3 P.M., heavy storm clouds moved in over Lake Havasu. Some days we got a light rain for 15 minutes or so; other days a downpour lasted for hours. In this thirsty land, flash floods were common and deserts became violent rivers in an instant.

 

“The washes can be exceptionally dangerous,” my grandfather warned Scott and me one afternoon on our way to get ice cream. He pointed toward a dry creek bed up ahead. “Not long ago a family of tourists tried to cross there in their car during a downpour,” he said. “The current was so strong it washed the whole car away, and the family couldn’t be saved.”

 

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