It took several years for me to inch my way back to
physical solvency from the effects of my exposure, and this delayed the
carrying out of my plans, to which my fishing trips had been a prelude.
The strange thing that I now have to record is that I soon forgot, or
willfully ignored, my whole experience of God, prayer and deliverance,
and became apparently more skeptical and indifferent than before. The
only way I can explain this is that I had not become a Christian, and my
dominant mental attitude reasserted itself when danger was past. I
practically never attended church. My position and influence, however,
were not merely negative; I was positively antagonistic to Christianity,
and this attitude continued up to the April following.
[Illustration: Dave Lived in a Beautiful Old Place Near the Shore and I
Had Been in the Habit of Spending Many of My Sundays with Him]
But while I forgot, I was not forgotten. God had begun a work in me, the
continuation and completion of which waited on my willingness to
cooperate, and the most powerful force in the world, that of believing
and persistent prayer, was being released in my behalf.
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