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It was mid winter in the 1970’s, when a young man from Glovertown, NL decided to spend a Sunday afternoon ice fishing. Everything ready, he started his ski-doo and was about to leave, when his father reminded him that the headlight was not working. “Don’t mind that, I’ll be back before dark,” he said. With that, he squeezed the throttle and roared off.

About eight miles up the Terra Nova River, there was a small cabin where he often stayed with his friends, hunting, fishing, drinking, and just ‘having a good time.’ He wondered if there might be someone there today. Seeing two snowmobiles parked outside, he went in. He found two older men sitting at the table with several bottles of moonshine. He was offered a drink and did not refuse. One drink led to many more. The other men were glad to give it to him, waiting to see how much he could drink. Needless to say, no fish were caught that day.

By 8 o’clock the liquor was all gone and they decided to head home. The young man was in no condition to drive a ski-doo. He even needed help getting dressed. Outside, they started up their machines and prepared to leave. The young man soon got stuck in the deep snow. The others tried to help, and in so doing broke off one ski. However, he assured the others that he would still make it home. When they arrived at Spencer’s bridge on the river, the other men decided to take the T.C.H. to a club. Not realizing he was now alone, the young man kept going down river. About a mile from the trail leading to his home, he became stuck again. Unable to free the machine alone, he left the ski-doo in the alder bed and began to walk home. Being intoxicated, he became disorientated and went in the wrong direction. Walking through deep snow he was quickly exhausted, and began crawling. Sometimes he would lie down to sleep, wake up very cold, and crawl some more. He continued this for several hours until he was completely exhausted. With his gloves, cap, and eyeglasses gone, hands and feet frostbitten, he lay down to die.

However, back at home there was a father who cared and knew his son should be home by now. Being concerned for his son, the father dressed and went out into the cold February night. As he ran up the Terra Nova River, he would stop every few hundred feet, call his son, and wait for a reply. Finally, he came close to where his son was lying in a semi-conscious state. As the son drifted in and out of consciousness, he thought he could hear a voice, so he listened closer. Sure enough, there it was again.

The father put his cupped hands to his mouth and he called: “Sa-a-n-n-dy!” It didn’t take the young man long to reply. “Dad, in here. Help me!” In no time the father had the son in his arms. He walked with him, dragged him, and carried him to the nearest house. The son made a full recovery from the ordeal, thanks to the love of his father.

I am happy today that I heard my father’s voice. This was not the first time that I heard his voice. Many times in the past he had looked for me. At times I would be late coming home, and I would get upset with my father; I didn’t want to see him or hear his voice and wouldn’t reply to his call. But that February night I was really glad to hear his voice. I shudder to think what would have happened to me that night if he had not looked for me or if I did not hear his call. How foolish I would have been to ignore the call. I would have perished.

I would like to tell you about another voice I heard. It was not my earthly father’s voice, but the voice of my heavenly Father. It was in the spring of 1977, and I was working in Gander at the time. While travelling to work one morning, my friend told me he had gotten saved. I was shocked. I asked, “Eugene, so how did that happen?” He said, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:31). I asked him the same thing three times. Three times he gave me the same answer. I was making fun, but he was serious. I asked him, “You have tried alcohol, you’ve tried drugs, so now you are going to try religion?” Nevertheless, what he said was like an arrow to my soul.

When we arrived at the office, I told the others of Eugene’s new found joy. We all had a little laugh and a few even clapped. Being convicted of my own need, we went aside and talked on a more serious note. I had often wondered, “Why am I here? Where am I going? Is there a God? How can we know for sure?” What I didn’t know was that the Bible could answer all my questions.

I bought a Bible and began to read. I was deeply interested and read mainly in the Gospels. At the same time, I received some Gospel tracts in the mail. There was an evangelist working the area and he randomly picked names from the phone book and mailed the tracts. I read these little papers and the word ‘saved’ came up again, and it bothered me. At the end of the tract was Romans 10:9, “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” At this point I decided that if there was such a thing, I would like to have it. I read the verse again, and said to myself, “I believe.” I made a profession of faith and told others. But there still seemed to be something missing. How could I know for sure that all was well for eternity? I began to attend various churches and gave up many of my bad habits, but I still wasn’t sure I would be in heaven.

My friend who told me he was saved invited me to come to some meetings in a little portable hall in Sandringham, NL. Reluctantly, I went. There was nothing fancy about the meeting. No music, no collection, just plain preaching of the Word of God.

The preacher spoke of knowing for sure where your soul would be for eternity. There was a lot said about the Cross, and why Jesus died. I had never considered that before. For about three months I struggled, wondering how could I know for sure, and why did Christ die? One night on June 24, 1977, about 1030 while reading Romans chapter 3, I made a lot of discoveries. I realized that I had been made by God, for God. But there was a problem: My sin had separated me from God and if I died in that condition, I would be lost forever. I also learned that God in His wisdom and mercy provided a way for fallen man to be brought back to Himself. God, being holy and righteous, must punish sin. The reason Christ came into the world was to go the cross and become the supreme sacrifice for sin. That night I understood why Christ died—for me! Now I can sing with the hymn writer:

I was lost but Jesus found me,
Found the sheep that went astray,
Threw His loving arms around me,
Drew me back into the way.

I would surely have perished if it had not been for the love of a father. He came to where I was, called my name, and found me in my lost condition.

It was a greater joy to hear my heavenly Father’s call. I responded to Him. God is still calling today, “Come unto Me” (Matthew 11:28). When God calls, it is a wonderful thing to respond. “Today if ye will hear His voice, harden not your heart” (Hebrews 3:7,8). He is a loving God and He cares for you.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

Do you believe? Everlasting life could be yours. Listen to His voice and respond today. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:31).

Personal testimony of Sandy Feltham
Box 178, Glovertown South, NL A0G 2M0

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