Proof The Bible Is True

“Wow!” was all I could say about the large silver salmon my husband had just caught. The fishing trip was going great–so why was Darryl packing up his equipment? “Don’t you want to keep fishing?” I asked.

We were out on The Queen Charlotte Strait, off the coast of Vancouver Island, in an aluminum boat just big enough for two. My company had rented a lodge and sponsored a fishing trip for employees, and my husband and I were thrilled to get a weekend away from the house and the kids.

A group of us had spent the morning fishing together. Then Darryl and I broke away to get some time alone. It would be a shame to end it so soon.

“Didn’t you notice?” Darryl said. “Look.” He pointed to something behind me. A thick blanket of fog floated across the top of the water quickly and silently toward us. Everything it touched disappeared.

I looked in the direction of the shore. We’d been only 500 feet from land minutes ago, but now I couldn’t make out anything in the relentless haze.

“I hope I can get us back,” Darryl said. The fog had already swallowed our boat. I could hear Darryl’s voice though I could barely see his face.

Somewhere a ship’s foghorn sounded. I jumped, and the boat rocked back and forth beneath me. A thin sheet of metal was all that separated us from the strong currents.

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