A modern dramatic story inspired by "the lost sheep" in Luke 15.
It was full-on summer in Montana. The small town of Three Forks is at the headwaters of the mighty Missouri River, where the Madison, Gallatin, and Jefferson rivers come together.
The fabulous and well-known Rodeo Weekend had arrived, with parades, food vendors, the Rodeo, and the street dance afterwards. This year, there was a new addition: the volunteer fire department added, just before the Rodeo, a Chili Cook-off and a fair-like festival.
Continue reading ↓
Three Forks, MT, Rodeo, and an eight-second ride. - Image taken by the site owner.
The air smelled like chili cook-off pots bubbling with cumin and peppers, kids darted between carnival booths with sticky cotton candy fingers, and the volunteer fireman, Mike Dawson, was filling bowls of chili as fast as he could. Yes, it was quite busy. The new addition was well received.
Mike was proud of this town. He had spent decades running into burning buildings and barns, hauling sandbags during floods, and even rescuing the occasional cat from a tree.
At the edge of town, near the Jefferson River, lived Tyler, an adventurous teenager who had developed a reputation for testing limits. His mom, raising him on her own, did her best, but Tyler did not always make it easy. More than once, she had asked Mike to talk with him when nothing she said seemed to get through.
Over time, those talks became something more. Mike and Tyler spent many afternoons together, sometimes talking seriously, sometimes about nothing important at all. Mike understood him better than most. He had lived a fairly colorful teenage life himself.
Tyler had a habit of disappearing when life got too loud. An argument with his mom, trouble at school, sometimes just too many people asking too many questions—he would head toward the river and find someplace quiet. Mike understood. At Tyler's age, he had done much the same thing.
The festival was going better than ever. Mike was pouring chili into bowls, but something bothered him. A gut feeling. He looked around. Everything seemed normal. He smiled at a customer and handed over another bowl of chili.
But this afternoon, something tugged at him. He could not let it go.
A whisper of worry.
He saw Tyler's mom looking frantic. She was moving through the festive crowd, calling Tyler's name.
Tyler was nowhere to be seen. Around town, that usually did not cause much alarm. People knew his habit of slipping away when life became too much, and the same response surfaced almost automatically: he would be back. He always came back.
Mike knew that pattern too. But something this time did not fit it.
The band cranked up on the festival stage. The rodeo was still a couple of hours away, and the crowd showed no sign of slowing down.
Mike handed the ladle to another volunteer and stepped away from the chili booth. He left behind the raffle tickets, the laughter, and a line of people waiting for another bowl.
A few people noticed him go. Someone asked where he was headed.
"Going to look for Tyler."
"Why? He always does this. He'll come back."
The response was predictable and ignored.
Mike kept walking.
He got into the fire station pickup truck and sat for a moment, thinking about where Tyler might have gone. One of Tyler's favorite hideouts was west of town, near the fishing access parking area along the Jefferson River.
Mike parked at the fishing access and headed toward a sandy stretch downstream where teenagers sometimes gathered to party and drink beer. The place was quiet. No sign of Tyler.
A heavier feeling settled in. Another spot came to mind—north of town, near Old Town Bridge. Teenagers went there too, but that stretch of river was different. The current ran fast there, and the thick brush along the bank could trap a person before anyone knew they were in trouble. Most people knew better than to go there alone.
Mike moved quickly through the summer heat, following the sound of rushing water. He scanned the bank, calling Tyler's name, but saw nothing.
Then he heard it—a faint, desperate shout. He sprinted through the brush, branches clawing at his arms, and found Tyler tangled in thick riverbank growth. The boy's body was almost completely submerged, the current tugging hard. He was seconds from going under.
"Hold on, kid!" Mike plunged in, mud sucking at his boots. He untangled Tyler from the brush. Tyler hung on tight, coughing and shaking, while Mike dragged him up to solid ground.
Tyler sobbed, clinging to him. "I thought… I thought I was done."
Mike wrapped a light jacket around the boy's shoulders and said, "Not on my watch, kid. Not on my watch." He hugged Tyle tighter.
Tyler, still shaken, apologized, "I'm sorry I took you away from the fun."
Mike looked at the mud covering both of them. "Away from the fun? Look at us. Covered head to toe in mud, a swim neither of us planned on, and now sitting here listening to the river. Doesn't get much more fun than this."
Tyler just smiled.
Mike said, "We should go now. I hear a bowl of chili calling your name."
Back in town, Mike and Tyler climbed out of the fire station pickup, soaked, muddy, and understandably exhausted. They walked side by side toward the Firemen's Chili Cookoff area. Mike handed Tyler a steaming bowl of chili, a buttered ear of corn, cornbread, and a rodeo ticket.
Mike and Tyler sat on the curb next to the chili booth. Tyler enjoyed the quiet moment and the chili. He kept thinking about what might have happened if Mike had not found him. A chill ran through him and snapped him out of the thought.
His mind shifted to the stories Mike had told about his own teenage years. Then he thought about everything his mom had gone through—and the possibility that maybe his own attitude had not helped. For a fleeting moment, Tyler caught a glimpse of the adult he might become.
He looked at Mike, nudged his shoulder, then spoke.
"Mike, I've been thinking about my future. I graduate high school next year, and I've had no idea what comes after that. Until now. I'm not sure how to do this, but college looks like the way to go. Yeah, I know—you never thought those words would come out of my mouth."
He paused.
"Will you help me tread a different kind of muddy water?"
Through the mud on Mike's face, something brightened in his eyes.
"Of course I will. We've got this."
Inspired by Luke 15:1-7
Synopsis:
There is a difference between believing someone will come back and caring enough to make sure they do. Mike leaves behind the laughter, chili bowls, and Rodeo Weekend crowd when Tyler's familiar disappearance suddenly feels different. In Jesus' account of the lost sheep, the missing one is not simply expected to return; the shepherd goes after it and brings it home.
Tap to read the actual bible passage:
Share this story:
Connect With Us
Enjoying these stories?
Please help us keep the lights on, fuel our mission and more...
Why Support UsStay Up To Date
Join the tribe and don't let our stories wander off looking for someone else to read them.
Subscribe