Proof The Bible Is True

My son Dillon hoisted his duffle bag on his shoulder and gave me a hug. I wasn’t one for making scenes at the airport, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming. He was only 21, about to deploy to Afghanistan for the second time.   “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be home soon,” he said. I wished I could believe him. But how could I? Two years earlier, Dillon’s older brother, Tanner, had been killed in action. Keep Dillon safe, Lord, I prayed. Have mercy on this mama.   I kept on praying those words, even after I got home. [More]

Lost: One irreplaceable ring given to me by my mother.   Suspect: An untrustworthy college roommate.   Problem: How to tell Mom the ring was missing while I was home on summer break.   I was a wreck. Dad gave Mom the ring way back when they were dating, a delicate white-gold band with a gorgeous emerald-cut ruby and a small diamond in the center. Mom entrusted it to me when I went off to college in Des Moines. I didn’t wear it much because the ruby was loose in its setting and I didn’t want anything to happen to [More]

“We should have come home earlier. I would have loved to see one last snowfall,” Doris, my mother-in-law, said. We sat in her living room in front of the big picture window that looked out on the yard. It was a beautiful, sunny June day, and hummingbirds darted around the feeder outside.   Only a few months had passed since Doris had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She and my father-in-law had been in Florida for the winter. They’d returned to Michigan for her surgery. It didn’t help. Now in their home on Lake Huron, she only had weeks to [More]

One cold early evening many years ago, my wife, Bartie, and I set out in our cabin cruiser for a picnic dinner on southern San Francisco Bay. We waved to a college crew team heading out for a practice row, then proceeded down the channel toward the San Mateo Bridge. The choppy water soon turned into huge waves.   At the drawbridge, I signaled to the bridge tender to let us through. He shook his head, pointing to the whitecaps on the water ahead. We were about to take our pitching craft home, when in the distance, near some mud [More]

The old Case 310 Dozer fired right up even after being idle for a few months. I had been on bed rest after gall bladder surgery, unable to do my farm chores, and was tired of being cooped up in the house. Even though I was still recovering, it was time to get a few things done. First thing—test the hydraulic functions on the dozer, make sure it was still in working order.   I backed the machine out of the tractor shed and into the dirt road. So far so good. I moved the crawler forward. All of the [More]

It was the day before Thanksgiving. But I wasn’t feeling very thankful.   I threw some clothes into an overnight bag, tried to keep my hands from shaking. I’d just gotten off the phone with my sister Toni. She’d given birth to a baby boy, Bradley, a week earlier, but he’d been born with a congenital heart defect. The doctors didn’t think he was going to make it.   My mom and I would be driving up to Kansas City to spend Thanksgiving with Toni and her husband at the hospital. I wished there was something I could do for [More]

Yet another cheery holiday tune was playing over the radio at the thrift store. I cringed. “Santa’s on His Way,” by George Strait: “Christmas is always my favorite time of year!” Not mine. Not now. I gripped my empty shopping basket’s red plastic handle in one hand and my gift list in the other and stared at the cracked snow globes and chipped mugs among other castoffs cluttering the shelves. What did I expect to find? This wasn’t Toys “R” Us. It wasn’t even Walmart. This was my last resort.   God, I’d prayed on the drive here, give us [More]

My date, Lisa, and I were huddled in the pitch black on a wooded ridge in the Colorado Rockies. All around us were rocks and sheer drops. We’d lost the trail. We were still a mile or more from the car. And it was getting colder by the minute.   I couldn’t believe I’d gotten us into this mess. I’d met Lisa through a family friend and invited her to hike Eagle Peak with me as our first date. I felt responsible for our safety and guilty that I’d put both of us in danger.   After all, I should’ve [More]

Take a gun and end it all, Sheryl, said a dark, mocking voice in the back of my mind. End it and all this pain and worry will be over.   I didn’t even own a gun. I had been in the middle of my nightly routine when the strange thought popped into my head. Now I just sat on my bed, staring blankly at the wall. It felt as though a literal weight were pressing down on me.   Suddenly something else snapped into focus in my mind, like mental whiplash. Not a thought, exactly, but an image. An [More]

I’ll never forget the story of how my neighbor, Ben Martin, came to help my mother one fall evening on our Oklahoma farm. I’m forever thankful to him… and to the mysterious ways that brought him there.   The sun was going down, the weather was turning cold. Ben had driven into town that day to pick up his mail. From there, he intended to continue on to Tulsa, 55 miles away, to see a show.   Ben pointed his pickup toward the highway. But just before he reached the on-ramp, the strongest feeling came over him. You’re needed back [More]

“Today is no day to be cooped up,” I said to my friend Mel. The grin he gave me said he’d been thinking the same thing.   It was Sunday—a gorgeous Sunday in April. When I left the house that morning, I told Dad I was going to church for Sunday school—and I honestly planned on doing just that. Until I ran into Mel.   He was headed to the town’s junkyard to look for salvageable cars.   “Come on,” he said. “There’s hidden treasure in that old junkyard, and we’ll see it sparkle in this sunlight.”   I had [More]

It was brisk and clear that February afternoon, ideal weather for getting shots of the construction site I’d been hired to photograph. At the Madison, Georgia, municipal airport, I made my preflight checks on my Cessna 172, inspecting the exterior—including the wings, fuel tanks, tires and engine. And then the interior—lights, gauges, instruments, radio and so on—as I went through the laminated pages of my checklists. A routine I’d followed diligently for 23 years as an aerial photographer.   I craved the comfort of routine. It had been a rough week for my family and me. We’d buried my brother-in-law [More]

My husband, Henry, walked in and dropped a stack of newspapers on the table. I thought I spotted a beer can hidden behind his back, but he quickly turned to face me, hiding his hand from view. I brushed off the thought as silly. I must have just imagined it.   “Hi, darling,” he said, giving me a kiss before heading to his recliner and flipping on the morning news.   I glanced at the newspapers on the table. Slipped under the bundle’s string was a small envelope. It was payday for Henry’s newspaper route, which supplemented income from the [More]

The pain was sharp and sudden. It shot through my lower molar. I dropped the pair of khakis I had been folding into the open suitcase on my bed.   “Oh, no,” I muttered.   My husband, Mike, looked up from across the room. “What is it?”   “It’s this darn tooth,” I said, rubbing my jaw. I had a crown, but the tooth underneath was apparently infected. The dentist had warned it might become a problem. But that tooth couldn’t have started acting up at a worse time.   We were heading to Florida for a vacation with the [More]

Bang! bang! bang! I shot up in bed that mid-December morning in 1992. Someone was pounding on the door of my rented room at New Dramatists, an organization for playwrights in New York City. My hair a mess, I grabbed my robe and ran to the door. I threw it open to find Peter, the office manager, standing in the doorway. His face was as white as a sheet.   “Kimberly, are you okay?” he asked, visibly shaken.   “Yes, I’m fine! Why?”   “The building was robbed last night. You were the only person in here. Three floors have [More]

Pichilemu, my Chilean home, is known as the Capital of the Surf. People come from all over the world to ride our waves. My husband, Mitch, and I have lived here since the eldest of our five children was a baby, surfing and spreading the Gospel, living it in our home as well.   A couple Easters ago, I was especially focused on our youngest, 13-year-old Katrina. She and I had been talking about Easter in preparation for the upcoming service, but I wasn’t sure how much had really gotten through. Katrina has Down syndrome, and she often had trouble [More]

Mom pulled the big sedan onto the mountain road, the scenic Blue Ridge Parkway. From my seat in the back I gazed up at the pines that towered over us. The cliffs seemed to go straight up, higher than I could even make out through the window. We had been driving for nearly three hours, heading back to Florida from a family camping trip in Williamsburg, Virginia.   I looked back at the pop-up trailer we were pulling behind us, our home for the past two weeks. It had been a tight fit for the six of us—my mom and [More]

Great-aunt Anna loved to tell humorous stories that highlighted the joy she found in everyday life. Sitting in her kitchen drinking tea, laughing over her latest tale, I looked at her in wonder. As a young woman during World War II, she had fled Ukraine on her own and managed to get herself out of Europe. Then she spent time in South America before my mother was able to sponsor her to come to Canada, where we lived.   “How did you manage in those war-torn years?” I finally asked out of the blue. “I imagine it must have been [More]

I stuck my thumb out into the biting wind. I was somewhere in Utah, trying to hitch a ride as the daylight faded. It was bitterly cold and beginning to snow. I had on a coat and the combat boots I’d worn in Vietnam. But not much else to protect me from the late spring snowstorm.   It was 1970. I’d served a tour of duty in Vietnam and come home in 1966 with plans to help my dad with our family farm in Minnesota. Maybe go to college and find a career. Instead…I drifted. No reason. Just a vague [More]

01/20/20   I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the worship team played their first song. This was our pastor’s last Sunday. He was taking an exciting new position as regional director of the denomination. I was happy for him, but his move had me thinking even more about my own career. What was God’s plan for my life? For Pastor Gary, the road ahead seemed crystal clear. Why couldn’t it be like that for me?   For nine months now I’d been wrestling with making a career change. The idea was to work with my wife, Rikki, in her small company, [More]

When a tornado came straight for Jen’s house, she hid in a closet and prayed. She took a direct hit and is thankful for the miraculous outcome.  cbn.com

Tyler and Heather were about to drown in the open ocean when God literally answered their prayers by sending the “Amen” to save them.  cbn.com

My daughter, Amy, and I were getting ready to drive to the supermarket. I’ll put on some Colton Dixon in the car, I thought. Amy liked his songs. I liked the Christian message in them. I was always looking for ways to encourage my daughter to pray, but she was a natural doubter—and a teenager! If I pushed too hard, I knew she’d stop listening for sure.   We stepped down the three stairs that led to the garage and found my husband, Bob, standing by his old Mustang, looking up toward the ceiling.   “It’s a hummingbird,” he said, [More]

So many beautiful items lined the tables at the craft booth where my husband, Tony, and I were shopping, but my eye went straight to the woman behind the counter. She had long, snow white hair and an air of…  I didn’t know how to describe it, but she was the first thing to have gotten my attention all day.   I’d spent the day before in the hospital, visiting a good friend in the mental health ward. The hospitalization wasn’t a surprise. It came after months of worry, late-night phone calls and troubling conversations. Nothing Tony or I had done—listening, [More]

“Mom, you really need to find a new home,” my daughter Tammy Sue said. “Don’t wait until your lease runs out.” After we hung up, I started on the dishes, gazing out the window at my bird feeders. Moving was going to be harder than I thought. There was a lot I liked about my double-wide mobile home.   No stairs. Room for an office. A front and back porch. A shower stall instead of a slippery bathtub. And best of all, my kitchen-window view of the trees and my beautiful bird feeders. Problem was, my home had a toxic [More]

Staring out at the highway, I could barely keep my eyes open. Already I’d been driving for more than four hours. Now it was long past midnight and we still had hours to go to reach our home in a small town in the foothills of southeast California.   Please, God, help us get there safely. The thought, more reflex than prayer, jolted my consciousness for a split second. I looked over at my 16-year-old daughter, Katie, sleeping peacefully in the seat next to me. I hated to wake her. She was as exhausted as I was. She would have to take over for me at [More]

Two more dives. That’s all my husband, Larry, and I had left in St. Lucia. We’d spent a week here in paradise. It was almost time to go back to Kentucky. Almost, but not quite.   “What a gorgeous day!” I said as we boarded the dive boat. On the agenda was viewing a wrecked ship plus whatever tropical life we’d encounter: fish, coral, maybe even some sea turtles.   “Look who’s here.” Larry pointed to another couple waving to us, the Brits we’d sat with at dinner the night before. They were novice divers who wanted to hear about [More]