Proof The Bible Is True

It seems incredible, but what if we had the chance to share in our loved ones’ journeys from this life to the next? In a mystical phenomenon known as a shared-death experience, people report that they have been given the chance to see into life after life as a dying family member or friend passes. Whether it’s a glimpse of heaven or an inexplicable visit from the person who is on the way there, these amazing encounters bring comfort, closure and evidence of the wonder that exists beyond.   Read More: 3 Mysterious Stories of Divinely Crossed Paths | Guideposts

How many times had I stood in just this spot, waiting for the bus? And yet in all that time I’d never noticed—never really noticed—the beautiful tree that stood beside me.   I was running late for work as usual that spring morning after a good rain. Styling my hair always seemed to take longer than I anticipated. I rushed up to the neighborhood bus stop and brushed against a low-hanging branch. Water showered over me. Ugh, I thought. Somebody really should trim this tree.   As I shook off the droplets from my hair, I looked up. And up. And up. [More]

”I think I can help find your brother,” Anne said.   My friend had taken me by surprise. I gripped the phone tighter. “How?”   “From a search engine that publishes people’s names, addresses and phone numbers online.”   I hung up the phone feeling conflicted. I knew I needed to stay realistic, but a part of me felt a glimmer of hope. My life depended on tracking down my brother.   Four months earlier, I woke one morning with blinding back pain. A quick Google search indicated a kidney infection. I went in for a checkup, thinking I’d be prescribed [More]

Lake Havasu City, Arizona, where my grandparents lived, was a different world from what we were familiar with in our California neighborhood. Their house on the outskirts of town felt like the very edge of civilization when we visited that summer I was 13 and my brother Scott was 10. We didn’t have a boring moment, exploring all we could.   We hiked and climbed across desert, canyons and washes, despite the August heat. We went “skiing” down the low hills close to my grandparents’ house, scampering to the top and sliding all the way down on our feet through the sand, [More]

Blueprints for my next construction job were spread out on the kitchen table before me, but I couldn’t focus on them. My mind was on a different kitchen table, one I hadn’t seen in decades. “What are you thinking about?” my wife, Arbutis, asked me. She could always tell when my mind was somewhere else.   “I had that same dream again last night,” I said. “Night after night, the same dream.”   “The one about your grandmother?”   “That’s the one.” In the dream, I was sitting at Mamaw’s kitchen table. I recognized it right away. Growing up, I [More]

”How long is six weeks?” eight-year-old Henry asked as I unpacked the praying mantis pod I’d ordered for our science lesson. According to the instructions, that’s how long it would take the eggs inside it to hatch.   “It’s a month from now, plus two weeks,” I said. I unwrapped the jar that would hold the pod, and handed Henry and his five-year-old brother, George, the bubble wrap to pop.   I felt a pang of guilt. I’d started working as a nanny for Henry and George after my youngest child graduated from high school. We’d been together for three [More]

 Cardinals seemed to love my backyard. I watched them cavort one sunny morning as I sat on the patio with my coffee. “Cardinals appear when angels are near,” my friend was fond of saying. She knew I believed in angels. I started each day with Psalm 91, “For he will give his angels charge over thee.” It had been a habit since grade school, and now with a daughter in law enforcement and four grandchildren in the military, the psalm was never far from my lips.   I sat quietly for a moment, meditating on my prayer, when a cardinal [More]

Are you as excited about the newly reimagined Guideposts magazine as we are? Lately I’ve been talking to a few interested media outlets about our recommitment to the readers of our 76-year-old flagship publication. At a time when so many publishers are pulling back from print, our relaunch is newsworthy. Invariably I am asked how I came to Guideposts. It’s a story I love to tell.   At the time, my life was a shambles. I was desperately trying to stay sober after years of alcohol abuse. My sponsors in the 12-step program I attended informed me that I needed to do two [More]

  Kristen: I’d just drifted off to sleep when a face appeared before me. Handsome, with tan skin, dark hair, bushy eyebrows, light blue eyes and a kind smile… I woke with a start. Why am I dreaming about Kyle? I thought. I don’t even know him.   I had seen Kyle only once, briefly, a few weeks before. I was visiting my friend’s business. Kyle was also there visiting his girlfriend. I thought nothing of it. He was in a relationship. Dating was the furthest thing from my mind. So why was I dreaming about an unavailable guy I’d [More]

I was out on a walk,my eyes downcast, trying my eyes downcast, trying to sort through my thoughts. A few days ago, my husband, Russ, and I had lost our house of Russ, and I had lost our house of 28 years to California’s Camp Fire. We’d had to move into a hotel. It was all so hard to process.   An emergency phone call had alerted us early in the morning a few days prior. “Wildfire,” the robo-call repeated. “Evacuate immediately.” We sprang into action. Our next-door neighbor came over to check on us and helped Russ wrestle our [More]

Christmas Eve, 1944. My uncle Leonard was fast asleep aboard the troop ship SS Leopoldville. He was one of the more than 2,000 American soldiers aboard, all members of the Sixty-Sixth Infantry Division headed for France from England.   Suddenly, a massive explosion woke him. A German submarine had torpedoed the ship.   “You could see water coming up through the hold like a geyser,” he told us.   Uncle Leonard ran above deck in his long johns. Another ship in the convoy had already pulled up alongside the Leopoldville and was attempting to take on troops, but rough seas [More]

Heaven-Scent Diane Stark from Brazil, Indiana   The stink hit me as soon as I opened my parents’ front door. I stopped in my tracks and struggled not to cry. Obviously, I needed to investigate and then clean up whatever was causing the odor, but just the thought was overwhelming.   I’d been struggling with depression for months, ever since my husband had left and I’d had to take my kids and move back home. Even with Mom and Dad’s support, the adjustment to being a single mother wasn’t an easy one. A bad smell felt like more than I [More]

“Marion, why don’t you get another cat?” a friend suggested one day last spring. “You loved Minnie.”   “That’s exactly why I don’t want another one now,” I said. “That cat broke my heart. I’m not ready to go through something like that again.”   Two years had passed since we put down Minnie at age seventeen. I still missed her every day. I missed her spying out our living room curtains at the bird feeder, running to rub against my legs every time she heard the false promise of the electric can opener.   There were those luminous yellow [More]

Visits from a Hummingbird from Jackie Waters in Williamsburg, Ohio   I woke up early and headed to the front porch. My family was still asleep, and I needed a moment to myself. My sister, Tracy, had been battling brain cancer for years, and now there was nothing more the doctors could do. I hope Tracy will be at peace soon, I thought.   Just then, a hummingbird flew up to the porch. It hovered in front of me, looking directly at me before flying away. Short as it was, the visit felt important. This property has been in my [More]

It was Mother’s Day, and I was especially worried about Mom. This year, for the first time, she would be all alone on the holiday. I kept thinking, If only Gary were with her.   My big brother Gary had been a quiet, caring man who loved helping others. Seven years earlier when my father died, Gary moved in with Mom and was a great comfort to her. They loved to play games together, watch TV and read books. Gary took a job at a convenience store close by.   Then one November evening the store was robbed; Gary was [More]

This wasn’t the first surgery I’d undergone since my cancer diagnosis, but I worried it wouldn’t be my last.   Back in July, I had gone to the doctor to ask about a strange, painful rash on my chest. Like a sunburn that wouldn’t heal. It turned out to be breast cancer. I was shocked.   I had a lumpectomy at the end of August. I woke up post-op, my chest tightly bandaged. I thought the operation would be the end of it. But cancer cells had been discovered in the margins. That meant I needed an additional surgery, called [More]

“I hope your dad’s going to be happy here,” Mom said. We were settling my father into his room at a new nursing home. If only we knew what he was feeling. But Dad couldn’t tell us. Parkinson’s disease had robbed him of the ability to speak.   It hadn’t been easy finding the right place for him. At first, we’d cared for Dad at home. When that became too much for my sisters, mother and me on our own, we moved him into a care facility, but it wasn’t a good fit. There was only one really positive thing [More]

When my son James died of a drug overdose at 43 years old, my world collapsed. He was my firstborn of six children, a gentle and sensitive soul who saw the good in everyone. At 19, he’d enlisted in the U.S. Army and quickly climbed the ranks to become a sergeant and medical specialist. While he was stationed in Alabama, a fellow soldier was fatally injured in a parachuting accident, and James—the responding medic—blamed himself for not being able to save him. After James was discharged, he struggled with PTSD and turned to drugs to block out the scenes that [More]

I couldn’t focus. I was packing for a camping trip later that day with my friend Ceil. But my mind was elsewhere. I’d had a bizarre dream the night before that felt so urgent, so powerful, that I just couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t make sense of it either. I went over it again and again in my mind…   In the dream, I’d been fast asleep when I felt a presence.   I opened my eyes. Shimmering lines undulated above me until they materialized into a woman. She was about 70 years old, with white hair, smile lines and [More]

I stared at the unpacked suitcase. I’d gone to the same summer camp in Wisconsin since I was little, and I was set to return for my first year as an actual counselor. Counting down the last days of school before summer break, I was bursting with excitement. Now we were officially free from our studies, but after what had just happened I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to leave the safety of my house and my family in Indiana.   I went downstairs to the kitchen, where my mom was making dinner. “Mom, something happened today. Something really bad.” [More]

“Your mother’s breast cancer has returned, and it’s metastasized to her bones,” said my mother’s doctor. “It’s…everywhere. I’m so sorry, Roberta.”   I clutched the phone, tears in my eyes. Mother’s diagnosis had no cure. Worse, as a nurse of more than 20 years who’d cared for many end-of-life patients, I knew what her future held.   Even as a health-care professional, I had never really been able to do anything for my mother. Fiercely independent, she’d always been the caretaker, one with a hugely charitable spirit. Especially when I was a teen, battling my own incurable illness. She’d arranged [More]

“Can you perform a hymn for us next week?” my pastor asked me after Sunday service.   “Of course!” I said. The idea, though, made me anxious. I hadn’t performed at church in a long while.   Music had always brought me peace and made me feel closer to God. Until six months ago. After a switch in thyroid medications, I could no longer find joy in anything. The shift in my meds sent me spiraling into a deep depression. I lost my energy and appetite. Cried often. My piano sat untouched. I tried to go through the motions for [More]

I was ready for bed. As I reached to turn off the lamp on my bedside table, my eyes fell on the card my brother Isaac had given each of us siblings on what would have been Dad’s sixty-eighth birthday. It was a musical card with a photo of Dad smiling inside. When you opened it, a recording of Dad’s baritone singing one of his silly, signature songs would play. The card stood beside my bed, propped open just enough so the recording wouldn’t go off.   It had been a year and a half since Dad had died of [More]

I stepped on the gas and shifted into drive, then reverse, then back into drive again. Gunned the engine. It was no use. My truck was hopelessly stuck.   It had been snowing when I left for work but nothing like this. I’d never seen snow accumulate so fast, and we get some pretty serious snowstorms in Oklahoma. Visibility had dropped to nearly zero. That’s when the truck had fishtailed off the road.   I need to get home to call Stephanie, I suddenly thought. My 11-year old had spent the night at a friend’s house. She was supposed to [More]

I closed my eyes, as I always did, so I could concentrate on my morning devotions before I got ready for work. Concentrating on anything could be extra hard during the busy holiday season, but it always calmed me to start my day by praying for others or simply giving thanks for my blessings. Today was unusual in that I had a specific request: God, is Mom looking down on me from heaven this Christmas?   It had been more than 20 years since my mother had passed, but the question suddenly seemed important to me. The day before, a [More]

Mom and I pulled our artificial Christmas tree out of the box together, the silver pine branches bending into shape—a popular look back in 1970. “I hope the lights all work,” Mom said. As if the tree itself wasn’t shiny enough.   I shrugged. The truth was I didn’t care if we even had a tree when I woke up tomorrow. It was our first Christmas without my father. My heart was too heavy to enjoy anything.   “Hang some of those icicles,” Mom said, pointing to the open box.   I hooked a glittering ornament and reached for a [More]

I pressed down on the gas pedal, accelerating as I merged onto Highway 395. The drive to the crafts store in Norwich was a familiar one, because I was often in need of more fabric or yarn for my knitting. The midday traffic was light for my run to replenish supplies for the hats I planned to make as gifts.   As I settled into a comfortable cruising speed, my thoughts drifted to my brothers, Vic and Joseph, both of them never far from my mind. It had only been seven months since Joseph had passed away—from a genetic heart [More]