Proof The Bible Is True

My mom and dad had known each other since high school. “We were meant to be together,” Dad said. My father didn’t show his emotions much, but you could see a sparkle in his eyes whenever he talked about Mom.   My older brother, Roland, and sister, Alma, and I always knew how much our parents loved each other. Long after they sent us kids off to bed they lingered at the kitchen table, talking and holding hands, just enjoying their time alone.   We lived in Midland, Texas, where Dad was a full-time CPA, and Mom had her own [More]

I grew up believing that Christmas was a time when strange and wonderful things happened, when wise and royal visitors came riding, when at midnight the barnyard animals talked to one another, and in the light of a fabulous star God came down to us as a little Child.   Christmas to me has always been a time of enchantment, and never more so than the year that my son Marty was eight.   That was the year that my children and I moved into a cozy trailer home in a forested area just outside of Redmond, Washington. As the [More]

The phone rang as I was pulling my elf hat out of the closet.   Every December my husband, Jerry, and I help the Lions Club deliver presents to the 40 students of a nearby residential school, Green Chimneys , for kids with special needs.   Tomorrow everyone would gather at the local firehouse, and in addition to “Santa” and his “elf,” there’d be a magic show and a buffet lunch. The kids would even get a firehouse tour. I couldn’t wait.   But on the other end of the phone was a distressed volunteer. “Peggy, we’ve got a big [More]

Call Karyn. Those words startled me from a sound sleep. I sat straight up, rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock: just after three in the morning.   My younger sister Karyn was a senior at Eastern Michigan University and was used to pulling long hours studying in her tiny on-campus apartment… but she had to be asleep by now.   My alarm wasn’t set to go off for another two and a half hours. There was so much to do tomorrow.   Get my two little girls to school, work a 10-hour day at the office, take the [More]

“Dot, you’ll know God’s voice when you hear it,” Mama always told me. I needed to hear it now. It was an unusually cold evening in Jacksonville, Florida, but that wasn’t what made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I hurried down a dark, deserted street, eager to get to my Auntie’s place and escape the menacing hum of an old engine. The pale blue sedan was back. It had circled the block to pass me again—for the third time—slow, deliberate. Whatever the driver wanted from me, I didn’t want to find out.   I wasn’t [More]

   I sat on the bed and gently rocked my nine-month-old Gary Jr. in my arms, watching my husband dress for work. Gary Sr. looked well-rested, ready to start the day. I was still exhausted from what had happened last night. After three kids—Gary Jr. was my fourth—I thought I’d experienced every parenting nightmare there was. But last night had terrified me.   “Go check the baby.” Those words jarred me awake at one in the morning, like they had for so many nights since Gary Jr. was born. Before bed, as usual, I swaddled the baby and put him [More]

Every family has its own folklore and superstitions. In our big Italian Catholic family, it’s said that the souls of the dead come back to visit us in the form of a moth. Crazy, huh? “That could be Aunt Ray!” Mom would say when one flew inside, and my younger brother, Charles, and I would laugh. We were 12 years apart, but close. He always wore black and white. I teased him that they were the only colors he knew how to match. At 23, Charles passed away suddenly in his sleep. Part of my world died too. I yearned [More]

Heading to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in June had become an annual tradition for a group of camping friends and me. That’s the only time the species of firefly Photinus carolinus, the only known synchronous fireflies in the western hemisphere, puts on a not-to-be-missed show.   The darker the night, the more spectacular the experience. On this particular evening, we were in luck. The new moon was just a pale sliver in the eastern sky as my friends and I crossed the footbridge that leads across Jake’s Creek from Elkmont campground.     We made our way up [More]

The world was a terrifying place for nine-year-old Beth Praed. She was afraid of everything. Worms, spi­ders, even little roly-poly bugs. Thun­derstorms. A car driving slowly by her house in Indianapolis. You name it.   The dark scared her the most. She wouldn’t go to bed unless her mother first checked the room, turning on the light in her closet and the one on her nightstand.   Her mother would tuck her in and kiss her goodnight, then switch off the light by the bed.   “Leave the closet light on,” Beth pleaded.   “Yes, dear,” her mother said, and [More]

When I was growing up back in the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts, Mother prided herself on preparing us kids for anything life might send our way. Her own mother had suffered a massive stroke when she was only five years old. As the oldest of four children, my mother professed that it was hard work and a strong faith in God that got her through those rough years. She was a shining example of Yankee faith and fortitude, and she passed along those values to each of us.   Still, nothing could have prepared me for the void that Mother’s [More]

I stood before the full-length mirror in the church’s bridal suite, looking past myself in my wedding gown, searching for a blessing. The secret blessing I’d prayed for.   My soon-to-be mother-in-law fussed with the train on my gown, and the reflection got blurry as my eyes welled with tears. Not even my fiancé, Paul, knew the sadness that weighed on my heart, the longing I had for the presence of the five people missing from my special day.  My mom, my aunt, Grandma and Grandpa, and my sister, Audrey.   Five people I’d adored. My aunt and grandmother had [More]

I didn’t know what to write. I sat at my computer on the verge of tears. My hands hovered over the keyboard, throbbing in pain. My diary was a happy place, a file I opened up only to type in cheerful thoughts and small miracles I’d witnessed – but I didn’t have any of those now.   I had a migraine and my fibromyalgia was acting up. The pain was so bad I hadn’t been able to eat more than a few bites of breakfast before I felt nauseous. Days like this, there just wasn’t much I could do, the [More]

Worst. Birthday. Ever. The second my husband was out the door, I collapsed in a heap on the living room sofa and cried my eyes out. He’d gone off to work without so much as a “goodbye” or “I love you.” Not even a “happy birthday.”   Our seven-year marriage was over. That much was clear. We’d just come home after a long weekend in San Francisco, where we’d intended to celebrate my 41st birthday with friends. We were trying to work through our problems. Maybe a mini vacation was just what we needed. But he’d ignored me the entire [More]

It was before dawn when I felt someone pulling at the bed sheets. “Too early, go back to sleep,” I mumbled. The tugging continued. I cracked open my right eye. The blurry figure of my five-year-old son, James, climbed beneath the covers. Strange, I thought. He never asked to sleep with his dad and me before, and now he was too big to fit comfortably in our bed. I wanted to shoo him away. But a voice in the dark argued against me–“Keep him with you, it’s only an hour.”   Was that my husband, Ed? I turned towards the [More]

I’m a CSI, a crime-scene investigator, for Los Angeles County and it’s a 24-hour-a-day, 365-day-a-year job. Even on Christmas Eve. I went to bed that night hoping to sleep until morning, when my three daughters would rush in, giddy and impatient to open their gifts. But at midnight the phone rang. “We need you at a crime scene,” the dispatcher said.   There had been a home burglary in a poor area of the city. “It can’t wait until the morning,” the deputy at the scene told me when I called for details. “You’ll understand when you get here.”   [More]

My wife, Mary Ellen and I have been married 53 years, and we always try to spend Thanksgiving with our kids. Some time between the turkey and the pumpkin pie, we’ll share the story of the first Thanksgiving that Mary Ellen and I spent together and how it could have turned out a whole lot differently. If I hadn’t answered the call.   It was Thanksgiving eve, 1959, and I was in my dorm at Miami University in Ohio, about to set out on a long drive to pick Mary Ellen up from her school, the College of Wooster, three-and-a-half-hours [More]

I sat at the kitchen table to read the paper, a quiet moment in a stressful morning. A familiar face smiled up at me from the obituary page—Eleanor, a grandmother figure I’d befriended in church. Everyone knew her as a deep and caring person, someone who would listen to your problems, pray for you, and know exactly the right thing to say to put you at ease. If only I could talk to Eleanor now. I felt like a terrible mother and I needed a friendly word.   My only son, Michael, and my two other girls didn’t give me [More]

 I drove slowly down the road, peering through the frozen rain striking my windshield. My 12-year-old son, Eric, shivered in the passenger seat while the car warmed up. I should have headed straight home after church, especially in this weather. But we had gone to visit a friend in Grymes Hill, a neighborhood in Staten Island, New York. By the time we left, the sun had set and a sleet storm had begun.   My friend’s townhouse was at the top of the hill and the way down was steep. There were patches of black ice everywhere along the winding [More]

For over 20 years, I had prayed for Joe, my stubborn, beer drinking, pool shooting father to become a follower of Jesus Christ. My mother had prayed for 30-plus years of marriage for the man she dearly loved who had no time for God and little time for her or me. At times Dad’s belligerence toward the things of God grew so hostile, his salvation seemed an impossible dream. Yet, our Christian family and friends prayed and waited. Then around 1980, God’s “still, small voice” impressed upon me to fast and pray every Saturday for my father. “Fast? Me…fast?” I [More]

It was the day after Christmas in 1994, and with two toddler girls, I was exhausted. The past few days had been hectic with shopping, baking, wrapping gifts and making rounds to visit grandparents. This was the day I was looking forward to. I already had plans to stay home, sleep late and watch my babies play with their new toys. But now I was in a huff because I had been awakened abruptly. It was almost like someone had hit me to wake me up. I rolled over and looked at the clock to see what time it was, [More]

My wife and I had an amazing angel encounter when we were in our 20s. We had traveled to Seattle in order to attend Christian Faith Center with Pastor Casey Treat. On the way back from church, we decided to drive up Mount St. Helens to see the destruction from the volcanic eruption of 1980. We drove probably three hours up to the lookout point that overlooks into the crater of the mountain.   As we hiked up to the highest viewing point, I noticed a man who had several cameras. He got my attention, because I wanted to get [More]

As Mike Spicer laid 8-month-old Ryder Lockwood on the passenger seat of his truck to start CPR, he said a prayer to God. Minutes before, Ryder had been in the back seat of an overturned vehicle that struck a tree off the side of Highway 198 in Visalia. Spicer, a retired California Highway Patrol officer and head of security for Adventist Health in the central San Joaquin Valley, spotted the wreck Saturday morning, pulled over, and was handed a dead baby. The 61-year-old Hanford, Calif., man had seen many dead bodies over 27 years in the CHP. He was sure [More]

I was a college student in Illinois that Thanksgiving, and I couldn’t wait to get home to Massachusetts for the holidays. A friend’s mother offered me a lift as far as upstate New York, where my parents were going to pick me up.   Mrs. Case and I drove all through the chilly night. Just after sunrise on Thanksgiving morning, the engine quit and we rolled to a stop on a deserted highway somewhere in western New York.   Mrs. Case said calmly, “God doesn’t get you just halfway. Let’s pray, Richard.” After we prayed a little, she turned the [More]

We ate a big breakfast at a local restaurant, like we did every Father’s Day. Then off to church. Pastor talked about how God is a father who never lets his children down. I wanted to be a father like that. One of the presents my daughters gave me was a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “World’s Coolest Dad.” That was good enough for me. After church I put the shirt on. Then we’d leave for a car show the next town over. That was also our tradition. Just like any other Father’s Day. That’s what made it so great. [More]

My employer’s words struck terror in my heart: “I’m sorry, Jock, but we have to let you go. We’ve got to downsize to stay afloat.” Just like that, my 14-year career with a marketing agency was over. The chances of my finding another good job at age 51 were minuscule. How would I support my wife and four-year-old son? Panicked, I prayed, “Lord, please lead me to a job.” Then I signed up for unemployment and scoured the want ads. Read More: Prayer to Find a Job | Guideposts

I don’t know who was happier to be out hiking that beautiful autumn day, my dogs—Sophie, a nine-year-old white standard poodle, and Tex, a five-year-old parti-color miniature poodle—or me. We were out in the Sierra foothills on one of our favorite trails, by Feather Falls, the sixth highest waterfall in America. A mile down a wooded canyon to a creek, then two miles back up to where I had parked the car. A good, vigorous hike. We were almost to the creek when a squirrel darted across the trail and into the trees. Sophie bolted into the canyon, hard on [More]

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28.”  Admin “I heard that today is supposed to be the best day for fishing this entire month!” Jeff called to me from his home office last Monday. “Want to go this afternoon?” “Yes!” I responded without hesitation. I love to go bass fishing with my hubby, and it had been far too long since we’d taken a break to enjoy the great outdoors. We both finished up some projects, and he readied the [More]