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Authors: Rick Bundschuh, Cheri Hamilton
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that maybe we aren’t just accidents of nature, that someone designed us for a purpose, that maybe there could possibly, perhaps, be something—Someone—beyond us, namely, God. I realized that this open door to the possible existence of God meant that I wasn’t an atheist anymore, but an agnostic.
I know this isn’t much of a step, but if C. S. Lewis was right, at least it was going in the right direction. As funny as it might sound, I was quite proud to be an agnostic. It made me feel much more intellectual and tolerant than being an atheist. The position of “maybe” is far less totalitarian than “impossible.” As a teenager in the sixties, without a moral compass, I was bombarded with “opportunities” that demanded much more wisdom than I had the skill to navigate.
The drug culture had swept in and overwhelmed many in the surf culture. Looking back now, it seems incredible that as particular as we were about keeping our physical health in prime condition, most of my friends didn’t view pot use as a problem. I am sad to say that far too many incredible and gifted surfers were swept away from the ocean and the sport they loved.
But I was young, and I pretty much went along with whatever my group was doing, which usually meant playing around with drugs (mostly pot) whenever there was a lull in the surfing activity. And being one of the few girls in the company of a lot of boys, it was inevitable that I’d get involved with them at a very young age.
I started going out with one of them—Tony was his name—when I was 16. He was an exceptional surfer and board maker. Immediately after graduating high school, I moved in with him and started college.
Even then, God was calling me to remember Him. I just wasn’t that interested in listening. I know that a good number of surfers were coming to faith in Christ during this time, including the popular artist Rick Griffin, whose (now) Christian-tinged work was everywhere in
Surfer
magazine. Somehow none of this caught my attention even though I read
Surfer
avidly.
And then there was my friend Pamela. Pam became a Christian during our senior year, and our relationship changed. She’d been my close friend and tennis partner, but now all she wanted to do was talk about God and Jesus. Looking back, I see how patient and gentle she was, even though I was somewhat derisive of her enthusiasm and beliefs. I know now the heartache she must have felt for me. She was so excited about what the Lord had done in her life; but any time she tried to share it with me, I flat-out told her I wasn’t interested in hanging out with “Jesus people” and going to Bible studies. I didn’t think I needed to make any changes in my life, and besides, I thought it was just a phase she was going through; it wouldn’t last. And my life was much too exciting to bother with the question of God. Pam and I headed in opposite directions.
On a positive side note, Pam had not stopped praying for me, had not stopped wondering whether I’d given my life to the Lord.At one point, not too long ago, she searched around for me on the Internet, hoping to reunite and possibly share the Good News with me again. She didn’t find me, but Bethany’s name kept coming up in the searches. She’d heard of Bethany Hamilton, yet she had no idea that I was Bethany’s mother until she picked up a copy of Bethany’s book. You can imagine her joy and surprise! She’d found me; and wonder of wonders! I was a believer and had a family that was totally passionate about God.
In September 2008, she wrote me a letter. Not long after that, I called her. We’ve kept in touch since then. What a beautiful thing is friendship made complete with fellowship and prayer. It has been such a blessing to realize that every spiritual seed that someone plants is God’s responsibility; and though Pamela was unaware that the seeds she had planted when we were teenagers were taking root in my life, God knew.
But back then, I
I know this isn’t much of a step, but if C. S. Lewis was right, at least it was going in the right direction. As funny as it might sound, I was quite proud to be an agnostic. It made me feel much more intellectual and tolerant than being an atheist. The position of “maybe” is far less totalitarian than “impossible.” As a teenager in the sixties, without a moral compass, I was bombarded with “opportunities” that demanded much more wisdom than I had the skill to navigate.
The drug culture had swept in and overwhelmed many in the surf culture. Looking back now, it seems incredible that as particular as we were about keeping our physical health in prime condition, most of my friends didn’t view pot use as a problem. I am sad to say that far too many incredible and gifted surfers were swept away from the ocean and the sport they loved.
But I was young, and I pretty much went along with whatever my group was doing, which usually meant playing around with drugs (mostly pot) whenever there was a lull in the surfing activity. And being one of the few girls in the company of a lot of boys, it was inevitable that I’d get involved with them at a very young age.
I started going out with one of them—Tony was his name—when I was 16. He was an exceptional surfer and board maker. Immediately after graduating high school, I moved in with him and started college.
Even then, God was calling me to remember Him. I just wasn’t that interested in listening. I know that a good number of surfers were coming to faith in Christ during this time, including the popular artist Rick Griffin, whose (now) Christian-tinged work was everywhere in
Surfer
magazine. Somehow none of this caught my attention even though I read
Surfer
avidly.
And then there was my friend Pamela. Pam became a Christian during our senior year, and our relationship changed. She’d been my close friend and tennis partner, but now all she wanted to do was talk about God and Jesus. Looking back, I see how patient and gentle she was, even though I was somewhat derisive of her enthusiasm and beliefs. I know now the heartache she must have felt for me. She was so excited about what the Lord had done in her life; but any time she tried to share it with me, I flat-out told her I wasn’t interested in hanging out with “Jesus people” and going to Bible studies. I didn’t think I needed to make any changes in my life, and besides, I thought it was just a phase she was going through; it wouldn’t last. And my life was much too exciting to bother with the question of God. Pam and I headed in opposite directions.
On a positive side note, Pam had not stopped praying for me, had not stopped wondering whether I’d given my life to the Lord.At one point, not too long ago, she searched around for me on the Internet, hoping to reunite and possibly share the Good News with me again. She didn’t find me, but Bethany’s name kept coming up in the searches. She’d heard of Bethany Hamilton, yet she had no idea that I was Bethany’s mother until she picked up a copy of Bethany’s book. You can imagine her joy and surprise! She’d found me; and wonder of wonders! I was a believer and had a family that was totally passionate about God.
In September 2008, she wrote me a letter. Not long after that, I called her. We’ve kept in touch since then. What a beautiful thing is friendship made complete with fellowship and prayer. It has been such a blessing to realize that every spiritual seed that someone plants is God’s responsibility; and though Pamela was unaware that the seeds she had planted when we were teenagers were taking root in my life, God knew.
But back then, I
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