Proof The Bible Is True

  Walking the beach alone wasn’t how I wanted to spend that Saturday. I worked hard all week, and I looked forward to the weekends with my family. Unfortunately my grown kids didn’t always want to sit at home with me. I’d hoped by this time in my life I’d have grandkids to visit, but it wasn’t to be.   I strolled slowly up and down, digging my toes into the wet sand. The smell of the salty air and the roar of the surf soothed me. What a delight it would be to have a little companion on my [More]

What a waste of time! I’d been ahead of schedule on my drive from Florida to Virginia for a family reunion, but that was before my impulsive detour to “Trader Jack’s Fireworks and Gifts.” One of those tourist traps off of I-95 in the Carolinas, selling sparklers and multicolored rockets in addition to kitschy shot glasses, snow globes and, of course, Trader Jack’s t-shirts. I didn’t need anything like that, and a quick look around confirmed there were no special finds to be made. I left the store and shook my head. Why had I followed that strange urge?   [More]

The rock was bigger than a watermelon, and when I uncovered it in the field I was plowing that November, it was smudged with black earth. In the spring, I came back with a power scoop to take it away, and the winter rains and snows had washed it clean. I stared. Right on the face of that big, dark boulder, a pink cross stood out, clear as if it had been chiseled.   “Why, that’s the cross of Christ,” I said to myself. “This isn’t going to any rock pile. It’s a holy thing!”   I hauled it up [More]

Spring had arrived, time for my family’s annual vacation, a week on the Chesapeake Bay property we owned 40 miles from Washington, D.C.. It was nothing fancy, just two double-wide trailer homes that were in constant need of repair. But we always had great fun, fishing, crabbing, water skiing, just lolling around. This year though, I worried. We really couldn’t afford it.   Money at home was tight. Had been tight since February, when I was laid off from my job as regional sales manager for an electrical construction company. My wife, Beth, and I have two daughters in college [More]

Ruben Salazar lived in Waco, Texas. Rachel Salazar lived in Bangkok, Thailand. They weren’t related, had no friends in common, and with thousands of miles between them, had no occasion to ever meet. Each didn’t know the other existed.   Until Ruben received an email one day.   It clearly wasn’t meant for him, referring to a biodiversity awareness campaign on the other side of the world. But instead of hitting delete, Ruben scrolled through and discovered the intended recipient’s name and email—the address only slightly different from his own. He forwarded the message to the correct address, with a [More]

I grabbed a stack of envelopes off my desk and stood at the front of my classroom.   It was a perfect May day and I’d planned a fun activity for my sophomore English students—one that would get them engaged and excited. At least I hoped it would.   I had become a teacher to inspire kids, to help them reach their full potential. But I’d been at the high school here in Darien, Georgia, for three years now and no matter what I did, I didn’t feel like I was getting through to my students. Was I making any [More]

It was the day of my family’s big move, from New Wilmington, Pennsylvania a hundred miles south to Stahlstown. My wife, kids and dog went ahead in our car while I drove the rental truck full of our belongings. Driving down the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I got a bit nostalgic. Stahlstown was just a skip away from where I grew up, Charleroi.   My great uncle had been a prominent figure in Charleroi, owner of the Fox Grocery Company, a food wholesaler. Every summer, the company hosted a big picnic at Deems Park for employees and their families—with all the food, [More]

Spring cleaning doesn’t have to happen in the spring.   That’s what I told myself as I looked around my workroom one chilly afternoon. It was looking pretty cluttered. My desk was covered with papers and bits of my many craft projects: yarn, crochet needles, straw, fabric, thread. It needed tidying up, but I could think of a dozen other things I’d rather spend the day doing. It can wait, I told myself.   But as I turned to go, I spotted something on the floor. I looked closer: mice. The evidence was unmistakable. The Dominican Monastery where I live is [More]

The wet breeze from the hotel window where I was staying on a business trip in Copenhagen, Denmark, felt good. I’d opened that window for a reason, and I knew what it was. After two years of sobriety, I was in the middle of a terrible relapse.   Death, I reasoned, would be the ultimate hard stop. It would end all remorse, all regrets, all guilt, all feelings. It would just be over and whatever I left behind would be for the living to deal with. Not me. And whatever the consequences, they certainly seemed preferable to my continued existence. [More]

Back in the mid-1990s, after my husband, Jack, retired, I decided to start a small business. I picked wildflowers and sold them to local florists in neighboring towns.   We lived in a rambling, two-story wood frame house, surrounded by farmland, about five miles from Merrill, Iowa, then our home. Almost everything I picked came from nearby. The cattails came from creek land about a quarter-mile away. I scooped fallen buckeyes by the thousands that dropped from trees in a nearby park. The yarrow came from my neighbors’ pastures. I found the mare’s tails in a swampy field about 10 [More]

“When we do something nice for someone else it opens the door for God to do something nice for us.” Admin   I love everything about making Easter dinner except the Saturday shopping. That day, the supermarket can be as crowded as a department store at Christmas. And this Easter, on top of my regular checklist, I had to buy the ingredients for a delicious new recipe I’d discovered: sliced ham and turkey layered with Swiss cheese and spinach, all wrapped in pastry dough.   Trouble was, my work schedule had left me no time to shop earlier in the week. I’ll get [More]

Just because I hadn’t met the right man yet didn’t mean I had to give up on love. God, I prayed one night in bed, I know you have someone special set aside for me. Can you give me a clue about who he might be?   I closed my eyes and saw the image of a man. I tried, but couldn’t make out his features. The mere vision of him made me feel incredible love. I knew I was catching a glimpse of my soul mate.   Read More: The Soul Mate Chili Test – Guideposts

All day at work I watched faces light up as bouquets were delivered, boxes of chocolates opened, cards read. Everyone in the office seemed to get something special. Everyone but me.   Not once in 40 years of marriage had my husband forgotten Valentine’s Day. Gilbert always brought me roses and chocolates. But eight months earlier he’d died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. Losing him was a complete shock. Gil­bert never got sick. We’d recently retired and were looking forward to spending our golden years together traveling, seeing our kids and grandkids.   Read More: Roses of Hope for Miss [More]

Home sweet home. Almost. I’d been on a week-long business trip escorting a group of travel writers around northern Michigan, and the return trip was exhausting. I flew from Traverse City, Michigan, to Detroit and on to Atlanta. Now, I had an hour’s drive more to my house.   Luggage in tow, I headed toward the long-term lot where I’d parked my car at the Atlanta airport. I was beat. All I wanted was to climb into my car, drive home and climb into bed.   I reached into my purse for my travel notepad—the one I always take along [More]

Normally, I loved birthdays. When my son and three daughters were little, my husband, Charles, and I always made sure to have dinner, followed by a big cake and presents. Later, when the kids were grown and living in different states, they always called to wish me a happy birthday. But this year I could have skipped the whole day, knowing there was one call I wouldn’t be receiving, from my daughter Patty. She’d passed away unexpectedly just a month before. I was devastated. The one small comfort I had was a voicemail that she’d left on my cell phone [More]

I was up to my elbows in chocolate! My goddaughter, Shari, owns The Berry Factory in Sacramento, California, and her mother, Joan, and I were helping with the Valentine’s Day rush of 2010. We’d dipped hundreds of berries, arranged gift baskets and packaged orders to be shipped around the country.   By the end of the day Joan and I were exhausted. Shari didn’t seem fazed. That’s typical Shari. Even when things were hectic I’d seen her give away berries to everybody—parking attendants, mail carriers, hairdressers. “For me?” they’d say, bursting into a smile.  As a thank you, Shari took us out [More]

I lay in bed one sleepless night tossing and turning. For months now I’d been trying to figure out how to pay off a personal loan of three thousand dollars. The only thing I could come up with was selling my ’98 Volvo station wagon since I no longer needed it. But I hadn’t had any luck with a buyer.   Now here it was past midnight and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep a wink, what with worrying. Lord, I begged, please help. I need to sell my car. But even prayer didn’t give me peace.   Read More: Mysterious [More]

I was traveling home for the holidays, from Sacramento to Fort Smith, Arkansas, by bus, taking my two young boys to see their beloved granddad. Sounds like the makings of a Hallmark story, right? It was anything but.   Truth is, I was broke. Flat broke. Dad had wired me $700—enough for three bus fares and food for my kids and me for the four-day trip to his house. I was afraid to tell him just how bad off I really was, that I wanted to move back in with him for a few months until I could save some [More]

There are a lot of lessons a young surgeon learns. One of the biggest to come my way happened outside the operating room in the dead of winter many years ago.   Back then I was practicing at a small hospital in Manchester, Iowa, about 19 miles west of my home in Dyersville. An easy half-hour drive on a two-lane country road. Easy in good weather, that is. I had a hernia surgery scheduled at 7:30 one morning. The patient was a young boy. The surgery didn’t worry me so much, but the weather did. I looked out my window [More]

I settled down on the living room couch, cradling my three-week-old daughter, Debbie, in my arms. One look at her sweet, innocent face and my heart swelled with thankfulness. I thought back to the doctor’s words to my husband, John, and me just 14 months before she was born: “I’m sorry to tell you, but you have about a one-in-a-million chance of conceiving a child,” he’d said. Debbie was truly our miracle baby.   I strapped Debbie in her infant seat and placed her next to John on the couch. She smiled as her bright eyes followed the patterns of [More]

Victor Perez hit the gas, sped up, turned the wheel. Next to him, a brown pickup truck with a white stripe on the side sped up too, not letting him get in front. Victor tried to move in front of the pickup again. The other driver glared angrily at him, shouted obscenities. Maybe it wasn’t the right guy, Victor thought. Maybe this wasn’t the same pickup that held a kidnapped eight-year-old inside.   Read More: Did God Help Rescue an Eight-Year-Old Girl? – Guideposts

At the age of 36 I decided to return to college. As I signed the registration forms in the bursar’s office the cashier said, “The charge is five hundred and nineteen dollars. If you do not have the money now, you can pay next week when you start your first class.”   I didn’t have the money then. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d have it the next week either, but my desire to complete my education was strong. “Dear Lord,” I prayed as I left the office, “if you want me to do this, help me to find a [More]

I awoke with a start, my heart hammering in my chest. What…? Where am I? I wondered, frantic. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings. Then I felt the soft mattress beneath me, the fluffy pillow behind my head. A dream, it was only a dream, I realized. A nightmare made all the more frightening because it had seemed so real.   I wondered if the bad dream was related to the frantic pace of my life lately. My husband was having some health problems. Our three kids were teenagers and were involved in more activities than ever. My [More]

Less than a year ago, Michael Ambersons grandfather passed away. Grandpa Charles had taught Michael a lot about the things he’d need to get ahead in life. Like when Michael graduated Gadsden High School in 1996. Grandpa Charles paid the down payment for Michael’s class ring and helped his grandson set up a payment plan at the jewelry store to teach him how to establish good credit. That gift, and the lesson that came with it was just one of many memories that Michael recalled after his grandfather died. It was just too bad that Michael had lost the ring [More]

In 1971, as a newly licensed pilot, I was flying with my flight instructor from Vero Beach, Florida, to Longview, Texas. That night we hit bad weather over Mobile, Alabama, and air-traffic controllers suggested we fly north toward Jackson, Mississippi, to avoid an approaching storm.   As we rose above the clouds, I noticed the instrument panel lights flicker. A minute later, radios and instruments started going dead, then all our lights went out. Our situation was desperate, and as we flew an emergency triangle, we prayed for protection. We decided to drop below the clouds and try to see [More]

The sun was just coming up when I headed out to work last May at 6 a.m. as an administrator for the federal Farm Service Agency in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. Not quite dark, but dark enough to need my headlights. I turned onto one of the lonely, rural country roads that dot our county.   Maybe it was because I was listening to the radio, maybe it was because I was already thinking about some projects at work, but I didn’t spot the dark object in the road until it was too late. I ran over it and felt [More]

ven when we were teenagers, my brother, Jeff, and I thought few things were cooler than spending the weekend with Grandma and Grandpa Tipton at their cozy clapboard house in southwest Washington. We ate big, home-cooked meals (Grandma always had a new table grace for us to learn) traded scary stories in the dark, and chased each other through the woods. But most of all, we were happy to help them with things around the house.   One morning, Grandpa and Jeff drove to the local hardware store, while Grandma and I stayed behind.“I’m going to get this lawn mowed [More]