I was 21 years old and living in a small town in Florida when I met up with an old friend from high school. Several months earlier I had accepted Jesus as my Savior, and I felt God calling me to serve Him. My friend had received the Lord years earlier, but problems since had caused him to become bitter towards God. I tried to tell him that no matter what had happened, Jesus still loved him, but it was hard to get through his hard shell.

One night we had gone to a party and were driving home around 3:00 A.M. in my friend's sports car. As is common in that part of Florida, there were canals on both sides of the country road we were on.

Suddenly a larger car smashed into the back of ours, sending us crashing off the road. When I regained consciousness, I was on the other side of the canal, unhurt and completely dry. Everything was still. The car that had run us off the road was nowhere in sight. I called to my friend, but got no answer.

I looked into the canal and saw the car's wheels protruding from the surface of the water. I ran into the waist-deep water and felt inside the car. He was there, motionless. I tried desperately, but there was no way I could get him out by myself.

I climbed up the bank to the highway and flagged down the next car that came along. The driver was an elderly woman, and she was alone. She sped off to call an ambulance.

My emotions welled up and I cried out with all that was in me, "God, don't let him die!"

A few minutes later another car stopped. This time it was three young men who I had never seen before. Once down in the canal, the four of us were able to tip the car, open the door, and pull my friend out. Two of the strangers carried him up to the road.

He wasn't breathing. One of the young men pronounced him dead. My emotions welled up and I cried out with all that was in me, "God, don't let him die!"

Just then an ambulance and the police arrived, and rushed us to the hospital. In all the commotion, I didn't see the three strangers leave. Later, when the police questioned me about the accident, they said that no one else had seen the three men.

"You must be praying," one of the emergency room doctors said to me several hours later. "There is just no other way your friend could still be alive. His lungs were three-fourths full of contaminated water. We drained them, performed a tracheotomy, and have him on an artificial lung machine-but he is alive."

The next day my friend was conscious but couldn't speak. I asked him, "Did you understand what we were talking about the other night, about Jesus?" He looked deep into my eyes and gave me the most beautiful smile. I knew he had found the Lord again.

The next day he passed on to the loving, waiting arms of Jesus-no longer bitter and doubtful, but happy and reconciled.