Proof The Bible Is True

I tossed and turned in bed next to my husband.   I hadn’t slept much in the two weeks since our third daughter, Katie, died in a drunk-driving accident. My days were a haze. Painful thoughts consumed me. How could she have done it? Could I have stopped her?   Before the accident, I’d thought my second daughter was the one I had to worry about. She was going through a rough patch and her six-year-old daughter, Alana, stayed with me or her other grandmother most days. Would life ever be alright again? It seemed impossible. My bedroom door creaked [More]

It was a hot summer day in Atlanta… and we were locked out.   There’s nothing hotter than summer in Atlanta, especially if you can’t afford an air conditioner. My wife, Rebekah, and I couldn’t that year, and living on the third floor of an old building, the heat seemed to turn our apartment into an oven.   “Let’s get out of here,” Rebekah said one scorching Friday afternoon. “Why don’t we go down to the mall and enjoy their air conditioning?”   So that’s what we did. We cooled off sipping iced tea before ambling back. Maybe it was [More]

The sky was blue, the sun was warm. A perfect summer day for hiking. Atop 13,507-foot Mount Ypsilon, where my husband, Wes, and I had just eaten a packed lunch of sandwiches, apples and fruitcake, the view extended for mile after glorious mile of snowcapped Rocky Mountain peaks.   It was Friday, the day Wes and I hiked together each week. Mount Ypsilon was one of our favorite routes. We’d climbed it at least three times in the 41 years we’d lived in Colorado, where Wes had taught geology at the University of Colorado and I’d worked as a nurse. [More]

Boxes filled the bedroom. We had only days to go before my daughter, J.J., and I had to move.   But I was having second thoughts. Downstairs, the front door slammed and J.J. called up to me. “Mama,” she said. “Guess what? I saw another angel today!”   I wasn’t too surprised. With all the time J.J. spent at the little church next door to our house, angel sightings had become a common occurrence.   Although she was an adult, J.J. had Down syndrome, so there weren’t many places she could go on her own. At our church, I knew [More]

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/Watch: Stuck in the Mud – Guideposts

“I have a story,” Uncle Junior said one Christmas Eve. My aunts, uncles, cousins and siblings were all seated around the dinner table. That wasn’t unusual. Whenever my family gathered—after the meal was finished and the dishes were done—we returned to the table to entertain one another with stories.   My mother’s older brother Harold Junior told some of the best. When he reminisced about growing up with his seven siblings, no one laughed harder than he did. But there was something in his tone of voice that Christmas Eve. Something unusual. Uncle Junior sounded serious. Everyone gave their full attention [More]

“This is a new recipe,” my grandmother said, setting a pan of pastry down on the table in front of me and my great-aunt Gertie. “Tell me what you think.”   At 80, my grandmother, Loretta “Rita” Shultz, was as fearless as ever, always trying new things. I wished I had her confidence. “Tell me again about that time you got lost in the woods, Gram,” I said while she dished out our dessert.   Gram and Aunt Gertie shared a conspiratorial smile. I’d heard the story a million times, but how they loved to tell it. “Well,” said Gram, [More]

Scooping up one-year-old Jason, I grabbed my keys from the counter and called to five-year-old Robert: “Time to go!” We were running late for a doctor’s appointment.   The Texas summer heat beat down on us when we stepped outside. Robert kicked off his shoes and made footprints in the sandy driveway all the way to the car. “Mommy will crank up the A.C., guys,” I promised, buckling Jason into his car seat. I locked and slammed his door and reached for the handle on the passenger side so Robert could hop in. Now where did I put those keys? My eyes [More]

Getting home from Eastern Europe was an arduous journey, but my traveling companions and I would make the most of our two-hour layover in Paris. We didn’t have time to venture out into the city to sightsee, so Mark, John and I found a charming airport restaurant that might as well have been a bistro on the Champs Élysées. I decided to take a picture of the menu as a memento.   I reached into my backpack for my camera. I rummaged around for it, expecting my fingers to brush against the familiar shape of my passport. I’d kept it close [More]

Everything was quiet when I blinked awake in the darkness. My husband, Bob, was fast asleep beside me. But I’d heard someone call, “Mom!” I was sure of it. One of the kids, I thought, dragging myself out of bed. Probably just a nightmare.   I checked the rooms where my two younger daughters slept. Eight-year-old Elizabeth was fast asleep in her bed. So was 10-year-old Sarah. Cosmo, our Jack Russell, lifted his head from the living room sofa as I went up the stairs. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered. And it was. Fourteen-year-old Amy was in her upstairs bedroom, sleeping as peacefully as [More]

Rattlesnakes were common in the Smoky Mountains, where I grew up, and I knew to avoid them at all cost. But the timber rattler I came up against one sorry day when I was nine had been hiding under the roots of an old tree stump. I didn’t notice until it was coiled like a tight spring, its forked tongue flicking, tasting the air—searching for me. I tried not to move a muscle. If I was standing up, my boots might help protect my legs from a strike, I thought. But I wasn’t standing. I was crouched down on my haunches, eye [More]

Our dream vacation in Maui almost turned into a nightmare. One brochure was all it took for my wife, Judy, and me to fall in love with Hawaii. Maui at Christmastime! We were there with our two kids on our dream vacation. Waves crashed right outside our hotel room. The ocean called to me on the balcony. The sky was cloudless, a brilliant blue. This really was paradise. “Don’t even unpack,” I said to the family. “Let’s hit the beach before the sun goes down.” Judy grabbed some towels, and we were off. I led the way to an ancient [More]

The turbulent tide was pulling her farther and farther from shore. Would she survive?   Uncle Peter and I headed down the wooden walkway toward the ocean with our beach towels in hand.   “Too bad no one else wanted to join us!” he said. We’d left the rest of the family back at the picnic tables, but there was no way I was going to miss the chance for a swim.   My feet sank into the warm sand. I wiggled my toes. I was feeling good. Energized. Healthy. Able to take care of myself. That was certainly a [More]

I relaxed in our backyard under the shade of a big tree, while my five-year-old daughter, Paula, splashed and laughed in the pool. After a while, she hoisted herself up onto the edge for a quiet break. The sun shone bright overhead, our dog asleep in the grass. It was a perfect moment, everything hushed. A peacefulness hung over the entire yard.   I soaked in the stillness until something caused me to look over at the garage.   Read More: 5 Comforting Stories of Angel Encounters with Children | Guideposts

Spanish moss whispered in the breeze as I sat cross-legged on our dock in Sarasota, Florida. I was in the middle of an acrimonious divorce and had come outside to the bayou to find some peace of mind. I didn’t know what would come next for me. The ongoing uncertainty had sapped any hope that things would get better.   Above me, the sky turned from pale blue to gray. I tried to draw strength from the beauty around me: the rounded sea grape leaves, pointy cabbage palm fronds and Australian pines. I scanned the water for herons. The surface was still, [More]

I was already on my way to be with Dad when I realized I hadn’t even bothered to change out of my work clothes. It was a four-hour drive from my home outside of Atlanta to Asheville, North Carolina, where Dad was in the hospital having surgery to repair a patch for an aneurysm he’d suffered years earlier.   My brother, Joe, had called me at work to tell me the operation wasn’t going well. “They can’t stop the bleeding,” he said. “Dad’s arteries are too calcified. Can you come?” I finished my shift at the med-surg unit in the [More]

Retirement was a little quieter than I’d planned for, since Covid restrictions kept me at home. One afternoon, finishing up the breakfast dishes, I found myself thinking back on my busy working life as a professor. I’d had a long career and was amazed that my visual memory was so clear. Students I’d taught, colleagues I’d befriended at different schools, the administrators—dozens of faces came to mind. Swimming among them, one came to the forefront, a face I remembered way back from my childhood. I turned off the tap.   My family lived in a tenement apartment over a store in Holyoke, [More]

Hiking and camping weren’t new to me that summer of 2010. I’d been enjoying the great outdoors since my teen years. But now I was leading eight junior high kids through the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia. That was a lot of responsibility.   When I was a teenager, time in the woods meant freedom from my difficult home life. The sights and sounds of nature quieted the condemning voices I’d grown up hearing at home. But I could never completely escape them, especially when others were counting on me.   So far, this camping trip was going great. I used [More]

I had breast cancer and needed an MRI. In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I was filled with dread. I’d always struggled with claustrophobia, and the idea of being in a tiny space with no room to move, bombarded with the loud noise of the MRI machine, sent me into a panic. When the nurse called my name, I stood shakily. Dear Lord, please help me. I’m not sure I have the strength to get through this.   The MRI technician helped me onto the stretcher that went into the machine, all the while explaining what was going to happen. “I’ll [More]

My wife, Arbutis, and I graduated high school in May 1960 and wed that June. We couldn’t wait to start our married life! We set up house in Knoxville, Tennessee, enjoyed a newlyweds’ summer and watched the fall leaves change together. But that winter, on our first Christmas Eve as husband and wife, I was finishing up a job three hours away.   Money was tight, and I’d picked up work in Nashville for a few days, installing a marble floor in a bank. The construction company had set me up in a motel room and lent me a truck for the [More]

How would I get through Christmas when my sweet dog, my ever-present companion, Freddy Lee, wouldn’t be here with me? I reached over to where he was lying next to me in bed and ran my hand slowly down his back. This is our last night together, I thought, and in a few days Christmas will come without you.   I hadn’t panicked when I noticed him limping on our walks. How bad could it be, since he’d passed his recent checkup with a clean bill of health? I was shocked when I’d taken him back to the vet only to get [More]

Baseball is a tradition in my family. Some of my best memories growing up were the days my dad took my brother and me on the 90-minute drive to San Francisco to see the San Francisco Giants play at Candlestick Park. We saw a lot of baseball history being made, like when Willie Mays and the Giants won the National League pennant in 1962.   When I had my first child, Zach, Paw—as Zach called him—had another youngster to school in all things baseball. Unfortunately, by the time Zach was old enough to go to games Paw could no longer [More]

The call from the hospital came in the morning. Our son, Chad, had been in a terrible accident, his car totaled while he drove in the fog. He had stitches in his left temple and a fractured ankle, plus a bruise on his chest from the seat belt that saved his life. My husband, Randy, and I raced to his side.   “They’re just keeping him overnight to make sure he has no internal injuries,” Randy reminded me during the two-hour drive to the hospital. “He’s in no immediate danger, thank God.”   Yes, thank you. As we got closer to the hospital, [More]

It was late. It had been a hard day for my siblings and me—one we knew was coming. But the day hadn’t gone at all how we’d planned. I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about Mom’s last minutes here on earth, dying all alone in her hospice room. More than anything, we all had wanted someone to be with her when she took her last breath.   Our 89-year-old mother had been slipping away for the past two months. We knew she didn’t have much time left, so we’d come up with a schedule to make sure one of us [More]

”We got hit yesterday,” the convoy commander announced. I was still groggy from lack of sleep, standing in the heavy morning air that unforgettable February day in 2002. I glanced at the soldiers around me, standing at attention, backs ramrod straight. I could feel the nervous energy buzzing just under the surface. “We expect to get hit again today.”   I had flown into this remote location in the arid mountains of southern Afghanistan the night before, arriving at 3 A.M. on a Chinook helicopter. I’d slept a handful of restless hours in someone else’s cot before stumbling to this [More]

As a preteen city kid, I was a little nervous that first night of our Girl Scout campout in the Appalachian Mountains. I’d never set up a tent before, for one thing. “Looks good and sturdy,” one of the troop leaders said when she inspected our work. “It’s supposed to be windy tonight.”   We had dinner around the campfire and got ready for bed. The leaders headed off to their own tent nearby. As soon as we curled up in our sleeping bags, the wind started to howl. A huge gust hit the tent and a section collapsed. We [More]

We had a long list of things we wanted to do that summer, including going to the playground across the street by ourselves. My sister was 12, my twin and I were 9—old enough not to need the watchful eye of our mother, we decided. “Please, Mami?” we begged. “Can we go?”   Our parents were protective Puerto Ricans, determined to shelter us from big-city dangers as best they could. Mami was hesitant, but she looked at the picture of Jesus that hung on our dining room wall, closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross. “Okay,” she [More]