--- - - - --- :  Like a ship in utter despair, I SOS’d on the rusted, antique telegraph, my hand trembling, yet sure, with every press on the key.  The telegraph sent a loud ring throughout the gym every time the key was clicked.  In that moment, vulnerability had never made me feel so strong.  In that moment, I’ve never felt more safe.  It was the most invigorating, purposeful moment of my entire life.  I was rescued. 

I’ve grown up in a church.   My dad had always taught me the ways of God – all He has sacrificed for us and how we should live to glorify Him.  I knew all the songs we sang on Sunday mornings, and I attended youth group every Wednesday night.  My religion was habitual, and in a way, not my own decision.  I told myself I believed in God, but I never felt the presence that seemed to inhabit the fellow followers around me -- You know, how people claim God has spoken to them or feel God has given them a destined path or the people who cry during worship, raising their hands in the air for every song?  I never fully understood that. 

   Although I may not have felt a connection from the very beginning, I actually really enjoyed church.  I was fortunate enough to join a youth group that applied God’s word to everyday life, and it changed me for the better.  It was a great influence on me morally, including how I held myself and how I wanted to treat others; I wanted to do my best to be who God wanted me to be.  My perspective on life changed completely, and because of this, my first youth group is still the core of my religious beliefs today.  Although I considered myself a firm believer at that point, I never had that “experience” with God devoted Christians always talked about. 

I increasingly struggled with my faith around freshman year.  My pastor left the church, leaving me heartbroken.  I felt like I had so much more to learn; a big part of my life was coming to a standstill.  “We want you guys to stay involved in youth group,” he and his wife pleaded.  “Nothing has to change on our account.  The church is here for you.”  It was never the same, though.  After they left, I had a hard time going back to church; I couldn’t find a youth group that fit well for me.  There were plenty of places to try, but the intimacy was impossible to replace.  My precious small group was now a storm of kids, and I was lost at sea.  I eventually stopped going to church.  I stopped holding myself to standards I held for myself and for others, and I made decisions that were firmly against my beliefs.  I was far from who I had strived to be.  I built my walls tightly around me, but my friend saw through it.  He offered his presence wholeheartedly when I was going through a difficult time.  If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have encountered what I consider to be the most powerful moment of my entire life. 
“I want you to come with me!” my friend begged.  He signed me up for a five-day youth conference called CIY Move.  Although I didn’t know anyone from his youth group personally, they were all immediately welcoming.  We were, of course, all excited to get there as we journeyed through our long car ride, but I had no idea what to expect.  They didn’t know what to expect either, even after attending for years’ prior.  “It’s impossible to give the experience justice with words,” they claimed. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

It was a perfect day to have a perfect day.  Stretching outside the van after a long car ride, the smell of freshly cut grass and sun shining on my cheeks welcomed me.  It was a moment I couldn’t help but smile about; it was going to be a great day.  The hallways inside the dorms were crowded with high school students, filing in and out of their rooms, anxious for what was in store.  As I unpacked my bag, I pulled my carefully placed journal out from the side pocket.  My dad bought me the hand-bound journal from India years prior, but I wanted to save it for meaningful entries.  That day was the first time I’ve ever written in it.

The theme of the week was five words:  loved, rescued, united, changed, sent; each day had it’s own word.  The first day, “loved,” was nothing short of incredible, but the second day was life changing.  After worship, the speaker for the second day walked out onto the stage with a single telegraph.  He placed it gently on the edge of the wooden stage, then continued to tell stories about ships and sailors, and how they used telegraphs to signal for help.  Interesting and all, but what does this have to do with religion?  With God? 

I wish I knew who spoke that night; he gave a speech I will never forget.  As I was still struggling with my faith, I knew this is where I needed to be.  A tear rolled down my face when the words he said pulled me closer to who I was fighting to become.  Then another.  Then another.  The cool drops on my heated face made me shiver.  He ended the lesson with this:  If we needed rescued (spiritually), send an SOS.  He walked away, his steps echoing in the silence until the band began to play.  The telegraph sat on the stage.  It was crazy to think that I was so much closer to finding my way back after a few mere days at a church conference.  I knew that I was ready to take my final step, and I did.  It wasn’t until about two songs in that one single student walked down to the stage.  She walked up to the telegraph and paused for a moment: --- - - - ---.   Although the band was playing at maximum energy, the ring of her SOS signal was crystal clear. The gym erupted with applause, and her friends ran down to hug her.  The gym was filled with hundreds of strangers, yet the tears of happiness and level of excitement for the girl at the telegraph couldn’t have been more pure.  She had declared her acceptance of God’s rescue in front of the whole crowd.  It was absolutely beautiful.  A moment later another student walked up, then two, three.  The symbolism of the telegraph changed the atmosphere; people who had never met were hugging in rejoice.  We were all there for the same reason, and the believers couldn’t help but be happy for the students who were ready to follow God.  That was when I felt it; that was the moment I’d been searching for my whole life.  An overwhelming sensation overcame me -- I felt it in my heart.  I finally understood.  My mouth dry and my hands shaking, I knew it was time for me to go.  Without saying a word, I stood up and walked toward the stage.