Proof The Bible Is True

Only a couple more hours to go, I told myself. At last, we’d made it to northern Indiana after driving all afternoon and evening, heading home from a family vacation in Wisconsin. We’d gotten a late start packing up, none of us wanting to leave our lakeside haven before we had to. Now I was paying the price, my body exhausted. I didn’t want to take a break from driving now, though. It would be past midnight when we pulled into the driveway as it was.   I turned on the radio, softly, so as not to disturb the slumber of my [More]

“Ready to fly, girl?” I said, stroking the Arabian mare’s mane.   It was nighttime–pitch black. I’d just snuck out of the girls’ dorm at my boarding school. If I got caught I’d be in deep trouble. But sometimes a secret midnight ride on a horse, Sakie, pastured close to the school was the only way to clear my head.   At sixteen there was so much I couldn’t control. I felt somewhere in the middle of being an adult and a kid. Everyday life could seem downright scary.   My new boyfriend had broken up with me for another [More]

Two miles separated my house from Carver’s General Store, but I didn’t mind the trip when Poochy was with me.   I pedaled my J.C. Higgins bike down Graham Road. Poochy always ran right alongside me, round velvety ears flapping, pink tongue hanging out. Poochy was my best friend that summer in the 1940s. My only friend. I was 11.   Dad lived in a mental hospital 50 miles away. Mom worked long hours and didn’t make enough for someone to babysit me. I was on my own. Mom always said God was with me, but I sure couldn’t feel [More]

“The video is missing but you can read the story by clicking on View Transcript on the page.” Admin   Carolyn’s daughter Vanessa had just graduated from Navy Nursing School when she got her orders for San Diego, 2,000 miles from home. Carolyn worried. Lord, she prayed, please send an angel to watch over Vanessa. Keep her safe. As soon as the words left her lips, a picture came to mind, … Read More: Everyday Angels: Someone to Watch Over Her – Guideposts

“The video is missing but you can read the story by clicking View Transcript on the page.” Admin   Fran and her husband, Tom, parked on an isolated Nantucket beach. They wanted to watch the sunset.   When the light was gone, they decided to go back to their inn. Tom stepped on the gas. The tire spun in the sandy mud. Each attempt to get out made them sink deeper.   Pushing the car didn’t work either. They were very far from the main road. God, Fran asked, send someone our way.   Read More: Stuck in the Mud [More]

Ten dogs were brought into our clinic that day. All with the same owners, all in bad shape: malnourished, severely underweight, mangy and flea-ridden.   The worst of the lot was a black German shepherd named Maggie. She was rail thin. Every bone in her body showed. She was covered with open sores from her mange. I cradled her head in my hands and sighed, having seen cases like this far too often in my 15 years as a veterinarian.   Overpopulation is the leading cause of death among pets. Millions of dogs and cats are put down every year [More]

We were still living in the city when our family became the proud owners of a 6-week-old puppy. She was blonde, with the nose and tail of a chow, and the eyes, fur and build of a cocker spaniel. Our teenaged sons named her Pilgrim after John Wayne’s sidekick. But it was our 10-year-old daughter, Juli, whom Pilgrim followed everywhere and slept beside every night.   After our move to the country Pilgrim thought it was her responsibility to patrol the fence around our 160 acres. We put up a No Trespassing sign, but sometimes hunters came onto our property [More]

When we Americans were first taken hostage in Iran, we were terrified. We didn’t know who our captors were, or what their demands would be. What were they going to do with us? Outside the embassy compound, the rage of the crowd added to the ugly atmosphere. Their screaming would go on until two in the morning, then start up again at six a.m.—mobs of people yelling their hatred, their triumph, their anger.   One time after I’d fallen asleep, I was awakened by the distinct impression that someone had sat down on my bed. I turned over quickly, expecting [More]

My daughter, Bekah, called me from soccer practice. “Mom, I think I did it again!” she said, sobbing. “My knee snapped just like last time, and I collapsed on the field. This can’t be happening!”   Bekah was a senior in high school. Her dream was to play in college. She had suffered a severe knee injury—a complete tear of her right anterior cruciate ligament—one year earlier and battled back from surgery.   Her doctors had called her a model patient and declared her ready to play. Getting back on the field had been a gift from God in the midst of the [More]

On Easter morning, I will celebrate the glory of the Resurrection—but not in­side a church.   I’ll be standing by a cross on a hill­side, surrounded by sagebrush and ce­dar trees, miles from civilization in the foothills of northwest Colorado. With a handful of other early risers, I will brave the cold as the sun ascends over the distant snow-capped mountains.   After a Scripture is read, I will join in the singing of a hymn and feel a spe­cial closeness to the Creator as I em­brace the familiar comfort of this Eas­ter sunrise service. This is the church I have [More]

It was a sunny October day. My husband, Anthony, and I sat with our three kids—Ella, seven; Luca, five; and Zoe, two—as they drew with sidewalk chalk in the driveway. The whole family was enjoying the last bit of nice weather before the winter. Everything felt warm and peaceful.   “Look, Mama! I’m drawing Mario!” said Luca, scribbling with red chalk.   Of course. Luca was obsessed with the Nintendo video game character. “Very cool,” I said.   Luca clutched the red chalk in his little hand. “Red is a nice, hot color,” he went on. “Fire is red. Mama, do you [More]

I pulled a piece of curly maple from a stack at the specialty wood shop. I checked its color, its grain, its sturdiness. This would be the neck of the banjo I was building. It needed to be exactly right. To feel right in my hands, right from the start.   I’d built dozens of banjos over the years, but this one was different. You could say my life’s story would be in this banjo. A lifetime of mistakes, self-destruction and redemption. I wanted this banjo to tell that story, to share my truth, every time it was played.   At [More]

“There’s a second story after this one in which a car is an answer to prayer.” Admin   My mom and dad have this car, a 1998 Toyota Avalon. The first car my mom ever bought, not leased, and she definitely did her homework. My parents have purchased newer vehicles since, but after nearly 17 years and more than 200,000 miles, that old Toyota was still going strong.   Sure, it had rust spots from too much time parked outside in bad weather, and at times the engine squeaked and screamed loud enough to scare children on the other side [More]

Every year, thousands flock to San Francisco to walk across that fabled vermilion span, the Golden Gate Bridge. They come for the sweeping views of the city, the fog-wreathed hillsides abutting cold gray waters. The bridge rises 220 feet above the bay. Below, sharks and sea lions swim and dangerous currents churn. Tourists crowd the walkway, braced against the wind, snapping photos.   On a cool, foggy September afternoon, I boarded a bus to the Golden Gate Bridge. I wasn’t a tourist. I didn’t care about the view. I was going to jump.   Read More: Last Leap – Guideposts

Swim to my voice. The words washed over me like the waves I was hopelessly fighting, salt water spraying my face. My legs were cramping from the exertion of staying afloat. But I kept moving. I had to.   I was stranded in the Gulf of Mexico. What would happen if I stopped fighting the terrible current? Would I be swept out further into the gulf, my body never even found?   I was miles from shore. It was dark. I scanned the horizon, looking for a sign that help was on the way. All I saw were the blinking red [More]

“Hold it right there!” I froze mid-step, pinned by a blinding beam of light. The voice behind the flashlight echoed in the hospital stairwell. “What are you doing here?”   I tugged nervously at my hat. How would I get out of this jam? I knew I looked ridiculous—or worse, suspicious—in my Santa suit, complete with curly white beard, heavy black boots and ample padding to hide my decidedly un-Kris Kringle-like 21-year-old frame.   It was Christmas morning, just after midnight. I wasn’t looking for attention. The whole point of this get-up was to sneak into the hospital. It had [More]

Remember David Fredericksen, the truck driver whose dash-cam video of his daring rescue of a woman and her granddaughter from a fiery crash on I-10 became a YouTube sensation last August? We always suspected there was more to his story than the five-minute footage shows. So we asked him.   Read More: The Choice to Trust God – Guideposts

Babies don’t follow a nine-to-five schedule, so how could obstetricians? I was asleep when the phone woke me in the early hours of a Sunday morning in December back in the 1980s. “You’re on call,” my wife said, shoving me toward the phone.   I was so sleepy it took a few seconds to understand what the person on the line was telling me. A midwife, at the Evergreen Motel. With her was an Amish couple from a community about three hours away. The woman was in labor.   “I work with Doctor Whitman,” she explained. “I tried to call [More]

Two weeks until the marathon—and my right leg looked like it had been through a war. I sat in the car, idling in my driveway, unable to stop staring at my swollen, throbbing knee. I winced just trying to flex it. My calf felt tight and sore too. I could barely climb out of the car, how was I in any shape for a 26.2-mile run? Was it time to let my dream go?     Read More: Mysterious Ways: Fueled to the Finish Line – Guideposts

11/06/23   Five dimes were burning a hole in my pocket—the ones I’d saved just for this day. The carnival was in town! Part of the annual Blossom Festival in my hometown of Chagrin Falls, Ohio—brass bands marched down Main Street, the town’s ladies competed for the best jams and pies and the fruit trees dripped pink and white blossoms on the sidewalk. But, for me the best part was the carnival.   Saturday morning I wrapped my fingers around those coins and made my way to the carnival. “Step right up, young man, step right up,” came the call [More]

Night driving made me nervous. I usually left it to my husband. Just before my sister’s anniversary party, though, Bob was called away by one of his parishioners. A pastor’s emergency. I couldn’t miss the party, so I took our 18-month-old granddaughter, whom we were babysitting, and went without him.   I’ll just make sure to leave while it’s still light out, I thought. But I lost track of time showing the baby off to everyone. Before I knew it, it was nine o’clock. I said goodbye, buckled my sleepy granddaughter into her car seat and took off.   Willeo Road is notorious here for [More]

In the movie The Wizard of Oz, a twister comes and picks up Dorothy’s Kansas farmhouse, transporting her somewhere over the rainbow. She lands safe and unharmed; the wicked witch wasn’t so lucky.   As we’ve seen time and time again, however, this fantasy ignores the truth about the devastating impact of tornadoes. They leave a trail of wanton destruction wherever they go. Homes and towns are reduced to rubble, lives are lost.   The Ashworth family of Bertram, Texas, seemed to be the latest casualty of one of these terrifying forces of nature. Last week, their small town, 45 [More]

“Move it, lady!” an angry man shouted from his pickup truck, swerving to narrowly avoid a collision with my car. “You’re gonna get someone killed!” yelled another driver, racing by. I jiggled my keys in the ignition again. Come on old girl, you can start, I thought.  Just give me enough to get to the shoulder. The engine revved, then seized and died. Kaput.   Why did my little sedan have to break down here? In the middle lane of rush hour traffic on Durango Drive, a busy road in Las Vegas. There was a gas station at the intersection up ahead, but I [More]

“They’ll hire some young college grad,” Dave told me. “Not an old guy like me.” I’d never seen my husband so discouraged. He’d been doing great work as a field applicator for a farming co-op for 10 years, but when a higher position opened up, the company said they were looking to make an outside hire.   After a few weeks of searching they finally let him take a skill test to be considered. Dave felt sure he’d passed, but didn’t think it would change their minds.   “If it’s meant to be, God will open the door,” I told [More]

I stepped out onto the cornfield, my tennis shoes sinking into the waterlogged ground. I tried to block out the overpowering smell of fish. But I couldn’t block out the scene of destruction that greeted my husband, Darren, and me.   How could this happen? I wondered. In the distance, I saw a row of cabins, half-submerged in the receding floodwaters of the Missouri River, but I couldn’t make out our own–whatever was left of it.   Read More: Swept Away – Guideposts

I couldn’t sleep. Again. Negative thoughts filled my head. Again. The pain, the cold…. No cure. No relief. There’s nothing I can offer you. Six months ago, at the start of this nightmare with my leg, I would have prayed for comfort. But no more. All I wanted now was to sleep, to stop feeling so scared.   Could I pinpoint the moment God stopped listening to my prayers? Just last fall, right after the start of the school year (I’m a teacher), I rolled my left ankle. A mild sprain, I thought. No big deal. Except it was. It got worse. [More]

I have my own the story to share. It’s a tale my mom recounts, without fail, every Christmas. In fact, this year she’s already told the story three or four times!   It was a couple of days before Christmas in 1984 and I was one and a half years old. My sisters had just gone to bed–visions of sugarplums no doubt dancing in their heads–but I was still awake and sitting in my mom’s lap. My dad plopped down next to the Christmas tree, rearranging all the pretty presents before Santa’s big arrival.   “And what do you want [More]