Proof The Bible Is True

There’s a reason I don’t play the lottery or enter contests. I know I’ll never win. Even the one time I did–I collected ten dollars in a magazine sweepstakes–it didn’t make up for the hundred dollars in magazine gift subscriptions I’d bought over the years. So when the cashier at the grocery store handed me a scratch-off prize card around Thanksgiving, I didn’t want to take it.   “It’s free with your grocery purchase,” the cashier said. Okay, if I don’t need to gamble any money away…  Still, I wasn’t sure there wasn’t some catch. After fishing for a quarter from my [More]

Huckleberry Hound’s lazy drawl drifted into my kitchen that Saturday morning in the fall of 1959. His antics would keep my two young children occupied while I cooked some oatmeal for breakfast. The television was a poor babysitter, but what other option did I have?   My husband had left us. We got no support from him, financial or otherwise. We’d lost everything we owned in a fire and had to start over from scratch. There wasn’t much assistance for single mothers back then, so the free entertainment the television offered was a big help.   I opened the cupboard [More]

I straightened my sequined headpiece and wings, and stepped onto the stage at Trump Marina in Atlantic City. I was “Angel,” a lead soprano in Cirque Dreams Holidaze, a national holiday production. It was a huge role, one I was grateful for.   But I couldn’t help but worry. Would this finally be my big break? Or just another dead end?   Performing had always come naturally to me. As a toddler I danced and sang around the house, putting on variety shows for my parents, older sister and younger brother. When I was five my parents took us all to [More]

One-hundred-ninety-three boxes of cereal filled up the storage room of the Canby Center, the Christian community outreach organization and food pantry where my husband serves as director and I volunteer. Cheerios, Corn Flakes, Wheaties, Raisin Bran, Life, Honey Bunches of Oats, every cereal you could think of.   They’d arrived Monday morning by truck, brought to us by the cheerful manager of the Burgerville franchise nearby. “Our cereal box drive was a great success,” he declared. He’d offered a free milkshake to anyone who participated.   My husband thanked him for the generous donation, but as nice as it was, I worried it [More]

“The road is impassable,” the fire chief warned us. “You’ll never make it.” We’d pulled up next to his firefighting team in a snow of ashes, staring at Highway 39, the only route into the San Gabriel Canyon of Angeles National Forest, 30 miles northeast of L.A. Thick smoke and bright orange flames roared from the trees beyond. My partner, John, and I, deputies for the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department, exchanged glances. “We’ve got no choice,” I muttered. I wheeled our SUV around the roadblock, into the jaws of the fiery beast. The firefighters had their job to do. We [More]

A strip of glossy paper, torn from yet another magazine, dangled from our little black cocker spaniel’s clenched teeth. I knelt down to tug the soggy, rectangular scrap from his mouth. “Come on, boy.” He relaxed his jaw and looked up with innocent eyes. I glared at him, frustrated. Now? Why are you doing this now? Nothing, it seemed, could stop Leaf’s new bad habit. And he’d always been such a good dog! I held the slimy slip he’d dropped into my hand up to the light, reading the disjointed words and numbers printed on it as if they held some [More]

The engine revved, but our jeep’s wheels spun futilely in the sand. Stuck! It was another hot night in the fall of 1945, on the Pacific island of Saipan, and my corporal had taken me out on patrol duty. Sometimes servicemembers would sneak a vehicle off base to cruise around the island, then ditch the vehicle when they were though. It was our job to bring those vehicles back. We’d noticed a set of tire tracks trailing off towards the beach and pulled off the main road to investigate. Now, the jeep refused to budge from its place, lodged in the sand. [More]

Brr. I hugged the warm Crockpot I was carrying as I walked up to the building site. We’re hardy folk here in Wisconsin, but that fall day was beyond brisk. The women in my church group were bringing lunch to some Habitat for Humanity volunteers building a house in a working-class neighborhood. We’d made brownies, sandwiches and, most important, a huge batch of chili. Nearing the site, I wondered if chili would be enough to warm the bellies of the hungry crew. Except…there was no activity. No hammering. No saws buzzing. No drills whirring. No one working inside or out. Only [More]

Are we going to have tons of fun today?” I asked my four-year-old granddaughter as we drove to my house. “Yeah!” she shouted from the backseat. She and I always had fun. She was three months old when my son and daughter-in-law adopted her. In the four years since, we’d spent a lot of time together. Watering the garden, reading books, feeding her daddy’s horse—anything was fun as long as we were together. “How about some music?” I asked. I popped in a Christmas CD. It was almost December, after all. “Oh come, all ye faithful…” came from the car [More]

Business travel booked. Bills paid. House cleaned. A busy morning, but I’d managed to complete my most pressing tasks. I breathed a sigh of relief. The summer is when the business I run with my husband requires the most attention, and church and family obligations fill my days. Sometimes I think my busy brain could use a personal assistant, to make sure everything’s covered. Then I looked at the clock. 1:31 PM. For some reason, the time made me uneasy. Is there something I forgot to do? All I could think of was my appointment to meet with the party planner, [More]

Two stories from the news this week are great examples of what we at Mysterious Ways call “Encounters & Connections,” the unexpected ways in which the paths of two people cross to deliver incredible results. In Kent, Washington, a 911 operator named Candace picked up a call from a panicked woman reporting a theft. What was stolen? A wedding dress. Read More

Admittedly, the house had been quiet since my husband died, but I didn’t want a dog. I had enough responsibilities as an elementary school principal. Besides, no dog could ever replace Kash, my childhood best friend. I only went with my friend Dee to the animal shelter for pet adoption day because when she gets an idea she’s like, well, a dog with a bone. I figured she’d drop it once she saw I had no interest. But one dog took an interest in me. He came right up and looked at me plaintively, imploringly. Some sort of cattle-dog mix, [More]

A lost elderly woman with Alzheimer’s is guided by God’s love. Watch VIdeo

When a vacation turns into a moment of terror, a prayer is answered in an amazing way. Watch Video

We were the Three Musketeers, Ginger, her younger sister, Bernie, and me. We’d met at work and remained best friends for years. Then Ginger and Bernie moved an hour away, and we lost touch. I never stopped thinking of them, though. Which made it all the more painful when I learned that Bernie was diagnosed with breast cancer. Ginger was there for every hospital visit, through every round of chemo. She was at her bedside when Bernie died, after a three and a half year battle. Eight months passed. Ginger’s birthday was approaching, and her grief hadn’t subsided. “I thought [More]

I turned my keys in the ignition and the car roared to life. Loud music blared from the radio. I glanced in the rearview mirror, shifted into reverse and prepared to back up. Ding, ding, ding! An annoying chime suddenly sounded. I checked the dashboard and saw a blinking green icon: Door Ajar. I opened and shut my door, but the light kept blinking and the chime didn’t stop. I don’t have time for this, I thought. I was already late, as usual, to pick up my older daughter Kristen from a play-date. A close family friend had stopped by with his son, and we had [More]

On October 29, 2012, Superstorm Sandy slammed the Northeast. And like many folks, I won’t ever forget it. More than one hundred people lost their lives. Thousands lost their homes. My Jersey Shore town was dealt a brutal blow and recovery is still a work in progress. But there’s another reason I can’t forget this storm. A moment, actually. One that irrevocably strengthened my faith. It was 5:00 am, one week after Sandy. “Morning, babe,” my husband, Chip mumbled, shutting off the alarm. “Gonna be a rough one.” Chip’s a police officer and he was gearing up for another 16-hour [More]

I walked over to our church’s craft cabinet, hoping to find some project ideas for kids. In just a few days my husband, Daniel, and I would be taking a mission trip to help the Crow Creek Reservation in South Dakota build a new church and we’d need some fun things to do with the families. I’d barely opened the door when a long piece of thick rope flew out, landing at my feet. The rest of it was tangled up inside the cabinet—it had to be at least 10 or 12 feet long! “Where did this come from?” I wondered aloud. [More]

What better way to celebrate the beginning of summer than by setting up my outdoor furniture on the deck? I unstacked the chairs and arranged them around the table. All I needed was my new blue-and-white-flowered patio umbrella. It’s going to look so pretty, I thought. I searched the backyard shed. I was sure I’d put it there for safekeeping. I hadn’t even taken it out of the box. I stumbled around for 20 minutes looking for that umbrella. I’ll have to settle for my old one, I thought. It was tattered and faded, but it would give me some shade. Read More

My mother’s patio was a mess. There was clutter everywhere—dead leaves under the table and chairs, bird droppings on the cement flooring, weeds encroaching in the adjacent flowerbed. Mom hadn’t been out there in ages. Maybe I should clean it up, I thought every so often. But I never got around to it. So I couldn’t explain why, one Sunday, I showed up on her doorstep, unannounced, in my gardening clothes. “Mom, I’m going to do some sprucing up out back,” I said. Read More

Dad was a rural mail carrier for 52 years, but he loved it too much to call it his job. His “office” was the natural world, and he never tired of admiring the flowers, trees and sky along his route. “God’s handiwork,” he’d say. Outdoors he could also scout the best places for mushrooms. Morel mushroom hunting was a family tradition. I remember Mom and Dad taking us kids to a special spot in the woods one May day when I was seven. “First one to find a morel wins the prize,” Dad said. He winked at me, the youngest, [More]

They got help from a mysterious mechanic who appeared right when they needed him. Watch

I had meant to leave early for work. One of the main intersections on the way was under construction. Judging from the traffic, though, I hadn’t left near early enough. My five-minute commute to the hotel where I worked was going to take 15. I shook my head, frustrated. Stop and go. Stop and go. Long minutes passed. At last! I thought, nearing the intersection. I flipped on my turn signal and pulled my trusty, green Dodge Neon to the far left, turn lane. The light switched to yellow. Have to hurry, I thought. But the car in front of me took its time [More]

Fiery ash spewed thousands of feet above Mount Pinatubo. Molten lava cascaded down the flanks of the ancient volcano on the island of Luzon in the Philippines, destroying everything in its path. It was June 15, 1991. My husband, Chuck, and I saw a news ticker about the eruption from 8,000 miles away in Niagara Falls, New York. Our daughter, Cindy, her husband, Ed, and our grandkids had been lucky to get out alive. They’d been evacuated from Clark Air Force Base, where Ed was stationed, near the capital city, Manila. Cindy had called us earlier from a naval station [More]

Monday night madness, I thought, glancing at my kitchen clock. Church orchestra practice was in less than half an hour, and I still had things to take care of—cook some chicken to take for lunch that week, feed the dogs, change out of my work clothes. I filled a pot with water and stuck it on the stove, turning the gas burner up high. Orange flames licked the metal. Hurry, hurry. I stared at the pot, then caught myself. A watched pot never boils, I thought. I set the chicken next to the stove, all ready to go. Read More

Easter Sunday arrived a week after I moved to Phoenix, and I was looking forward to spending it with a friend visiting from my former home, Colorado Springs, Colorado. I thumbed through the Yellow Pages, searching for a church we could attend close to my new apartment. Yes, the Yellow Pages, mostly used as a doorstop these days. In this case, I was grateful that the big, fat book had been delivered to my door. I was under doctors’ orders to avoid using the computer, as the monitor could trigger my seizures—seizures that had taken me away from the community [More]

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I prepared to stand before my audience at a weekend religious retreat. Fifty ladies waiting to hear me speak on the importance of studying God’s word. I gathered my notes and picked up my Bible as I entered the room. Of all of the Bibles I owned, this was my favorite. I opened the book and a familiar name written inside the front cover caught my eye: Karen Baker. Read More