Proof The Bible Is True

A man strode toward me across the dock in Charleston, South Carolina. I didn’t recognize him, but he sure seemed to know me.

“Stuart!” he said, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. I only had a second to look at his face before another meaty paw clasped me to his breast in a rib-cracking hug. “It’s me, Fred. From Bequia. Don’t you remember? You saved my life!”

Saved a life? That I would remember! The only saved life I knew of was my own. A life I almost lost as a hopelessly drunk sailor. Which made me think twice. I did know a Fred once back in those days. And it was in Bequia. But he wasn’t this guy.

This man was clean shaven, dressed in immaculate whites. On his shoulders gleamed the four stripes of a yacht captain. I glanced again at the elegant boat docked next to my own. But that didn’t help me ID the man in front of me.

“Yes, I’m her skipper,” he said. “And I wouldn’t have this job—I wouldn’t even be here—if it wasn’t for you, Stu. Do you really not remember me at all?”

“I knew a Fred,” I said. “But you’re not… you can’t be…”

Read More Come Back to Me.