Proof The Bible Is True

Our dream vacation in Maui almost turned into a nightmare. One brochure was all it took for my wife, Judy, and me to fall in love with Hawaii. Maui at Christmastime! We were there with our two kids on our dream vacation. Waves crashed right outside our hotel room. The ocean called to me on the balcony. The sky was cloudless, a brilliant blue. This really was paradise. “Don’t even unpack,” I said to the family. “Let’s hit the beach before the sun goes down.” Judy grabbed some towels, and we were off. I led the way to an ancient [More]

The turbulent tide was pulling her farther and farther from shore. Would she survive?   Uncle Peter and I headed down the wooden walkway toward the ocean with our beach towels in hand.   “Too bad no one else wanted to join us!” he said. We’d left the rest of the family back at the picnic tables, but there was no way I was going to miss the chance for a swim.   My feet sank into the warm sand. I wiggled my toes. I was feeling good. Energized. Healthy. Able to take care of myself. That was certainly a [More]

I relaxed in our backyard under the shade of a big tree, while my five-year-old daughter, Paula, splashed and laughed in the pool. After a while, she hoisted herself up onto the edge for a quiet break. The sun shone bright overhead, our dog asleep in the grass. It was a perfect moment, everything hushed. A peacefulness hung over the entire yard.   I soaked in the stillness until something caused me to look over at the garage.   Read More: 5 Comforting Stories of Angel Encounters with Children | Guideposts

Spanish moss whispered in the breeze as I sat cross-legged on our dock in Sarasota, Florida. I was in the middle of an acrimonious divorce and had come outside to the bayou to find some peace of mind. I didn’t know what would come next for me. The ongoing uncertainty had sapped any hope that things would get better.   Above me, the sky turned from pale blue to gray. I tried to draw strength from the beauty around me: the rounded sea grape leaves, pointy cabbage palm fronds and Australian pines. I scanned the water for herons. The surface was still, [More]

I was already on my way to be with Dad when I realized I hadn’t even bothered to change out of my work clothes. It was a four-hour drive from my home outside of Atlanta to Asheville, North Carolina, where Dad was in the hospital having surgery to repair a patch for an aneurysm he’d suffered years earlier.   My brother, Joe, had called me at work to tell me the operation wasn’t going well. “They can’t stop the bleeding,” he said. “Dad’s arteries are too calcified. Can you come?” I finished my shift at the med-surg unit in the [More]

Retirement was a little quieter than I’d planned for, since Covid restrictions kept me at home. One afternoon, finishing up the breakfast dishes, I found myself thinking back on my busy working life as a professor. I’d had a long career and was amazed that my visual memory was so clear. Students I’d taught, colleagues I’d befriended at different schools, the administrators—dozens of faces came to mind. Swimming among them, one came to the forefront, a face I remembered way back from my childhood. I turned off the tap.   My family lived in a tenement apartment over a store in Holyoke, [More]

Hiking and camping weren’t new to me that summer of 2010. I’d been enjoying the great outdoors since my teen years. But now I was leading eight junior high kids through the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia. That was a lot of responsibility.   When I was a teenager, time in the woods meant freedom from my difficult home life. The sights and sounds of nature quieted the condemning voices I’d grown up hearing at home. But I could never completely escape them, especially when others were counting on me.   So far, this camping trip was going great. I used [More]

Our Volkswagen Squareback bounced over the sand and rocks, leaving a cloud of dust in our wake. I looked over at my wife, Sue. With the windows down, her hair whipped around her face. It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was bright and the sky was clear—perfect conditions for off-roading.   Back then, in 1984, Sue and I were living in southeastern California, right on the border of the Anza Borrego Desert State Park. The scenery was majestic, but not without its dangers. Summer temperatures could rise above 125 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was no place for tourists to go [More]

The hospital room was unusually quiet. It was a relief to spend some time alone, just the three of us—my husband, me and our 10-year-old daughter, who was now resting comfortably after surgery. Hannah had undergone a pelvic osteotomy to stabilize her hip, which was prone to dislocating due to Down syndrome. She had a long recovery ahead—months in a body cast, maybe a brace after that—but Hannah was a trooper. She had complete trust in the doctors and nurses who kept a close eye on her, and I prayed that God was nearby too. Hannah looked up at me in [More]

The view from our canoes on the Buffalo River was stunning. No wonder this was one of the Ozarks’ premier destinations. Massive bluffs towered over the water on either side—nothing but the calming blue heavens above. But soon into our float trip, the rapids whipped up unexpectedly. My gnawing unease returned with a vengeance.   At 28, I was plenty adventurous and a strong swimmer. Still, I felt there was danger waiting on the river. I’d been dreading this outing almost from the moment my husband, Larry, had made reservations for us and his Uncle Ronnie and Aunt Edna—a two-day, 10.6-mile [More]

Memories swirled around her as she shopped in the housewares aisle. But who was the mysterious woman that unexpectedly appeared?   Candle holders, picture frames and other knick knacks surrounded me in the housewares department. While my husband and I waited for construction to be finished on our new house, I enjoyed browsing for decorating ideas. A figurine on one of the shelves grabbed my attention, and I picked it up. It was beautiful, made of cast bronze. A woman danced with a young girl, their faces caught in a moment of pure joy, their skirts in motion, the girl looking up [More]

I had breast cancer and needed an MRI. In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I was filled with dread. I’d always struggled with claustrophobia, and the idea of being in a tiny space with no room to move, bombarded with the loud noise of the MRI machine, sent me into a panic. When the nurse called my name, I stood shakily. Dear Lord, please help me. I’m not sure I have the strength to get through this.   The MRI technician helped me onto the stretcher that went into the machine, all the while explaining what was going to happen. “I’ll [More]

My wife, Arbutis, and I graduated high school in May 1960 and wed that June. We couldn’t wait to start our married life! We set up house in Knoxville, Tennessee, enjoyed a newlyweds’ summer and watched the fall leaves change together. But that winter, on our first Christmas Eve as husband and wife, I was finishing up a job three hours away.   Money was tight, and I’d picked up work in Nashville for a few days, installing a marble floor in a bank. The construction company had set me up in a motel room and lent me a truck for the [More]

On January 6, 2020, as always, I carefully lifted the Nativity angel from the nail at the peak of the wooden stable and held her in my hands. Just as my parents and grandparents had done before me, I waited for this day to take down the crèche. Today was the feast of the Three Kings, or Epiphany, which commemorates the Magi’s visit to the newborn Jesus. They came bearing gifts, and while I wrapped and boxed each Nativity piece for the next year, I thought about the many gifts given throughout the Christmas story. The angel was first. As I took [More]

How would I get through Christmas when my sweet dog, my ever-present companion, Freddy Lee, wouldn’t be here with me? I reached over to where he was lying next to me in bed and ran my hand slowly down his back. This is our last night together, I thought, and in a few days Christmas will come without you.   I hadn’t panicked when I noticed him limping on our walks. How bad could it be, since he’d passed his recent checkup with a clean bill of health? I was shocked when I’d taken him back to the vet only to get [More]

Baseball is a tradition in my family. Some of my best memories growing up were the days my dad took my brother and me on the 90-minute drive to San Francisco to see the San Francisco Giants play at Candlestick Park. We saw a lot of baseball history being made, like when Willie Mays and the Giants won the National League pennant in 1962.   When I had my first child, Zach, Paw—as Zach called him—had another youngster to school in all things baseball. Unfortunately, by the time Zach was old enough to go to games Paw could no longer [More]

The call from the hospital came in the morning. Our son, Chad, had been in a terrible accident, his car totaled while he drove in the fog. He had stitches in his left temple and a fractured ankle, plus a bruise on his chest from the seat belt that saved his life. My husband, Randy, and I raced to his side.   “They’re just keeping him overnight to make sure he has no internal injuries,” Randy reminded me during the two-hour drive to the hospital. “He’s in no immediate danger, thank God.”   Yes, thank you. As we got closer to the hospital, [More]

It was late. It had been a hard day for my siblings and me—one we knew was coming. But the day hadn’t gone at all how we’d planned. I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about Mom’s last minutes here on earth, dying all alone in her hospice room. More than anything, we all had wanted someone to be with her when she took her last breath.   Our 89-year-old mother had been slipping away for the past two months. We knew she didn’t have much time left, so we’d come up with a schedule to make sure one of us [More]

”We got hit yesterday,” the convoy commander announced. I was still groggy from lack of sleep, standing in the heavy morning air that unforgettable February day in 2002. I glanced at the soldiers around me, standing at attention, backs ramrod straight. I could feel the nervous energy buzzing just under the surface. “We expect to get hit again today.”   I had flown into this remote location in the arid mountains of southern Afghanistan the night before, arriving at 3 A.M. on a Chinook helicopter. I’d slept a handful of restless hours in someone else’s cot before stumbling to this [More]

As a preteen city kid, I was a little nervous that first night of our Girl Scout campout in the Appalachian Mountains. I’d never set up a tent before, for one thing. “Looks good and sturdy,” one of the troop leaders said when she inspected our work. “It’s supposed to be windy tonight.”   We had dinner around the campfire and got ready for bed. The leaders headed off to their own tent nearby. As soon as we curled up in our sleeping bags, the wind started to howl. A huge gust hit the tent and a section collapsed. We [More]

We had a long list of things we wanted to do that summer, including going to the playground across the street by ourselves. My sister was 12, my twin and I were 9—old enough not to need the watchful eye of our mother, we decided. “Please, Mami?” we begged. “Can we go?”   Our parents were protective Puerto Ricans, determined to shelter us from big-city dangers as best they could. Mami was hesitant, but she looked at the picture of Jesus that hung on our dining room wall, closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross. “Okay,” she [More]

In 1954, when I was six years old, my family went on a road trip that has since become legend.   My parents, sister and I were driving from our house in Fayetteville, Arkansas, to Mom’s hometown in Texas. As night fell, we found ourselves on a deserted dirt road in Oklahoma, nearly out of gas. We hadn’t seen a service station in hours. It was getting late. My parents tried to hide their growing panic as the gas gauge crept toward empty, as empty as the road ahead of us.   Then a gas station appeared on the horizon. [More]

Delivering boats is a regular job of mine as a professional yacht captain. I bring them from Florida and the Caribbean, up the Eastern Seaboard to New England in the spring. Come fall, the process is reversed.   The boat I was taking to St. Thomas that day was an old wooden sailing yacht. It was supposed to be a straightforward job: Sail the boat from Newport, Rhode Island, to the U.S. Virgin Islands. I would follow the coast, then jump off from Ft. Lauderdale or Miami for the offshore run to St. Thomas.   That was the plan, but [More]

Our big, scraggly mutt, Ralph, had joined the family when his original owner couldn’t keep him. In the few months he’d been with us, we had come to love him, and all signs were he loved us too. But he’d developed one habit in his former life that no amount of coaxing could break. We couldn’t get him to come into the house.   “Some dogs prefer to stay outside,” I explained to the kids when Ralph settled to sleep in our yard on summer nights. Now, looking at him out there this fall day, I worried what would happen [More]

Hours before dawn, I awoke to a magical sound: the crunching metallic clatter of rolling tires outfitted with snow chains. It’s snowing! I thought. I leaped out of bed and ran to the window. Beneath the glow of the streetlamp, our road and yard in Raleigh, North Carolina, were blanketed with pristine white snow. School would be closed today—no question—and I was going to make it the best day ever.   My friend Peggy called when it was daylight. “Bring your sled,” she ordered. “A bunch of us are meeting in the woods above Cedar Creek.”   The woods were [More]

Our temporary chapel was nothing fancy, just a plain room with a makeshift altar and candles, but kneeling in it late that Friday night, I felt myself in a very holy place.   I was at my church’s annual women’s retreat. This year, for the first time, I’d been assigned to the prayer team. In some ways the job was perfect for me. I’d been praying my whole life. When I was a little girl getting ready for bed, my mother and I always said the same prayer together:   Angel of God, my guardian dear,   to whom God’s [More]

The dinner tray sat beside my hospital bed untouched, the food getting colder by the minute. I’d been in this room at Methodist Hospital in Minneapolis for 10 days now, recovering from a broken pelvis and fractured ribs after an auto accident. The pain that permeated my body was constant and intense. At times I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat. At 18, my life seemed over. Three months earlier, I’d lost my father to cancer. Now this. The world felt like a dark and empty place. Eating wasn’t going to change anything, and the mere sight [More]