Religion is for babies,» Harvey announced as he tossed aside the Christian tract his friend John had given him. «He-men don’t need it.»
World War II raged across the Pacific as the two seamen stood at the railing of their battleship. John had hoped that his buddy would want to learn about Jesus, but the man wasn’t interested. “Man your battle stations!» The voice over the loudspeaker sounded urgent. Suddenly the air was filled with roaring guns, screaming airplanes, and the sharp whine of ricocheting bomb fragments. The two friends quickly hurried to their positions, hoping to ward off the attack. But a torpedo found its mark and ripped a hole in the side of the ship. Water poured in, and the vessel began to list heavily.
“Abandon ship!» the captain ordered. As they were rushing toward the lifeboats, John noticed that his friend Harvey didn’t have his life preserver. He must have lost it during the attack. Without one, he’d surely die with the rapidly sinking ship.
“Here!» John shouted. «Take my preserver. I’ve given my life to God and am ready to die. You aren’t. Take it!» He thrust the vest into his friend’s hands and vanished in the rush of terrified sailors. The ship slipped under the waves, taking John with it. His life preserver kept Harvey afloat until rescuers arrived. Months later a humble seaman appeared at the door of an Adventist church. «I want to be a Christian like my friend John,» he said softly. «He died for me.»
Someday there’s going to be a reunion in heaven between two old friends. One gave his life. The other found his—in Jesus