One of my little hobbies is looking for God’s unseen footprints in life—hints of His presence; signs of His activity in the world. As I read news reports I often find myself asking, ‘where might God be in all of this?’

If you’re also interested in trying to ‘spot God’ in the world, I came across a story this week which might fire your imagination—especially if you were a childhood fan of Evel Knievel.

Remember him? The guy with the motor bike and the nerves of steel. He started jumping his bike over boxes of snakes and hungry lions. Then he started jumping cars, and more cars. He jumped Greyhound and Double-decker busses, and the fountains at the famous Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. He even had plans of jumping between two New York skyscrapers, and across the Grand Canyon, but authorities never gave him permission. Knievel entered the Guiness Book of Records numerous times, including his record of 40 broken bones in one crash.

Evel Knievel’s successes and failures gave him household fame and made him a marketable brand. He put his name on action figures and pinball machines; he had guest TV appearances; movies were made about him. He got a reputation as a womaniser, was jailed for assaulting a former promoter, went bankrupt, lost his family and re-married a woman half his age.

Knievel has certainly had a chequered life.

Now the news is that a remarkable thing has taken place in a Californian church. Two weeks ago today (April 8), Evel Knievel appeared on the stage of the well-known Crystal Cathedral church and said he’d made another leap—of faith. Knievel has apparently become a Christian.

Earlier this year, the story goes, Knievel called Rev. Robert H. Schuller, founder of the Crystal Cathedral, and told him he was interested in becoming a Christian. Schuller was skeptical at first, but later flew and met Knievel face to face, and became convinced that his search was genuine. Knievel had apparently explored Buddhism and Islam and believed he’d found the truth in Jesus Christ.

On the Palm Sunday service Knievel said he had refused to accept Jesus Christ as his Lord for 68 years. He said while he’d believed in God for sometime, he hadn’t been able to walk away from the gold, the gambling, the booze and the women.

Many people had been praying for Knievel—his daughter's church, his ex-wife's church, and hundreds of people over time had written him letters about faith. And then in March something clicked for him. "I don't know what in the world happened,” Knievel says. “I don't know if it was the power of the prayer or God himself, but … the power of God in Jesus just grabbed me. … All of a sudden, I just believed in Jesus Christ… I just got on my knees and prayed that God would put his arms around me and never, ever, ever let me go."

What happened after those words is probably the most interesting part of the story. After Knievel spoke, most of the 4000 worshippers at the Crystal Cathedral began sobbing. The original plan for the church service was thrown out and an impromptu call was made for anyone who wanted to commit or recommit themselves to Jesus Christ. Hundreds came forward. The pastors of the church began baptising people on the spot—as a Reformed Church this meant sprinkling them with water as a sign of God’s forgiveness. The same thing happened in their second service. Somewhere between 500 and 800 people committed or recommitted their lives to Jesus Christ that Sunday, with another 100 following the next day.

Some might discount the story as an emotional reaction to a former superstar’s bare-all testimony. But this revival of sorts has taken place in a church not known for evangelistic zeal. Perhaps, instead, we can see a trace of God’s unseen footprints here—God drawing spiritually hungry souls to Himself, through the story of a flamboyant stuntman’s reluctant surrender.