My next novel, Frantic, releases on February 7th. It’s a fast-paced thriller about an average Joe–Marny Toogood–a gas station attendant, who has lived his life under the dark cloud of a “curse” given him at birth. Little does Marny know he has been chosen for something much greater in life. And when he crosses paths with Esther Rose and her brother, William, Marny is forced into the role of a hero. Only he doesn’t see himself as a hero at all. Running from not one, but two maniacs, Marny, Esther, and William come face to face with evil and Marny must find the hero within to survive. But being a hero isn’t anything Marny thought it was.
At the center of all this action is one special boy, William, and his unique gift. At the heart of the story is one theme: Marny then understood that trust required selfless surrender; faith was about doing God’s will, not his own. (pg. 258).
Here’s what I’d like to do. Frantic is all about the power of faith so for 30 days before the release I’d like to post your story of faith on this blog.
I’m calling it “30 days of faith.”
Tell me your story in as few or as many words as you’d like. When and how did God show his faithfulness to you or your family? Was there a time when faith saw you through a trial, either physical, emotional, spiritual, or all of the above? Did you witness a miracle or a direct act of God in your life? Or how about an incredible answer to prayer?
I want to hear your story and others NEED to hear it.
Don’t worry about how well or poor you write (I won’t be critiquing these!). I don’t care about that and others don’t either. The focus here is on the power and faithfulness of our God. Just write your story and leave it as a comment to this post. I’ll let you know when your story is going to post so you can share it with your friends and family. They’ll be blessed like the rest of us.
I’m hoping to get 30 stories but if we get more that’s great. And remember, it can be as short or long as you want . . . just tell your story, tell God’s story.
And as a thank you for those who write, after Frantic releases I’ll be choosing three contributors (randomly) to receive a free signed copy of the book.
I was a brand new Christian, so when the ladies at church invited me to my first-ever women’s retreat, I accepted. Panic immediately set in. What was I going to do all weekend with a bunch of perfect women? I mean, they walked the walk, they knew all the songs, they knew how to find the books in the Bible. I knew nothing. And I was terrified.
Immediately, I memorized Psalm 23 since most Christians seemed to know it. I figured if there was a pop quiz, I’d be ready. And just what did perfect women wear to bed? Did they wake up singing like Cinderella with birds circling about?
As I pulled up to the retreat location, I remember praying: “God, I just want to know that you’re real. Show me this faith thing is worth it.” On some level, I really expected Jesus to appear at some point, sit across the table from me and welcome me into His family.
I don’t remember anything about the retreat except one thing: When the last song had been sung and the closing prayer was prayed, God never showed up. I was so angry. I snatched up my stuff, grabbed the Bible bookmark they were handing out as we exited, threw it in my Bible, got to my car, slammed the door and screamed, “GOD, WHERE WERE YOU?!?! WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!?! DO I EVEN MATTER TO YOU?!?!”
I stewed in that toxic brew for two days. Finally, tired of being mad and hurt, I went to my shiny new Bible and opened it. I naively figured it would open to the perfect passage I needed. Instead, that Bible bookmark fell out that the ladies handed to me as we exited the retreat. I picked it up and read the inscription: “You walk by faith, not by sight. ~Hebrews 11:1″
God told me in that moment that He’d been there all along. Just because I couldn’t see Him didn’t mean He wasn’t there. Didn’t mean He didn’t care. Didn’t mean He didn’t die for me. God captured my heart that day. And I’m so thankful. This faith thing IS worth it. It’s been an amazing ride for 20 years now. And I can’t wait to see what He’ll do with the next 20.
Donna, this is beautiful. Thank you. (Read tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat)
Blessings on you and your writing ministry, Mike. Because, that’s really what it is.
I’ve grown up in a Christian family and have always believed that God is my Savior and my Shelter. He has brought me through numerous bouts of medical issues. Yet there is one emotional trial that I would not have been able to deal with, if I had not known God.
When I was six years old, I joined a local karate school. I fell in love with it right away and excelled as I grew. There were many influential instructors there, but the head instructor/owner always stood as a major role model for all the young students. He acted as a father to many of them.
When I was ten, I went through the testing cycle completing four various tests to receive my first degree black belt. Three years later I went through another (more intense) testing cycle and achieved my second degree black belt. At this point, many of my friends began to drop out as they found interest in other sports and activities. For me, no sport could ever compare to karate. I was even able to help teach a few of the youth classes. As I continued, my goal narrowed and focused in on one thing, achieving my third degree black belt. I knew the other ranks I had earned were important and accomplishments in and of themselves, but I also knew that to earn a third degree at such a young age (17) was a major success. By then, students would have to have been in karate for at least 11 years.
However, the first time I tried, I was not completely prepared and did not make the cut for the testing cycle. It only made me work harder. The second time, I made it past the entry level test, all the way to the second actual test (or the physical test). Unfortunately, because I was still recovering from a long battle with anemia (an iron deficiency), my cardiac endurance was not where it needed to be to withstand the five mile run. I made it through the test, and a smaller routine test for black belts afterwards. However, my performance was not up to par and I failed.
The news was delivered to me by the head instructor. The fact that I failed was enough to send my world array, but regrettably, he did not tell me in a respectable way. I was devastated by what he said. I couldn’t believe he would ever say such things to any one of his students. Neither could my family. I tried my best to recover and in fact I did continue with karate for a while afterward. But soon enough, our deteriorated relationship took a tole, and karate was no longer a happy place for me. I made the decision to quit.
If it were not for God, I would probably still be holding a deep anger towards my instructor. God helped me (and is still helping me) to forgive his unkind words and to not hold the grudge. My instructor’s words haunted me for a while, even after I quit. But He healed me from them playing over and over in my head like a broken record. By saving me from their
constant repetition, my confidence was able to recover from any damage done. God also salvaged my passion for karate and love for the art of fighting. He let me see that He was always going to be there for me, even when role models in my life failed or let me down. He also helped me see that I didn’t have to give up my love for karate even though I had been hurt so awfully.
Powerful story, Hannah. Thank you for sharing it. God is so gracious, isn’t He? When compared to this world He shines brighter than any star, brighter than the sun. There’s no mistaking his hand in your life.
I am the Wife of a Marine we have been married for 11 years Dec. 30, 2011. It was into our 7th year that he was 1st called to deploy to Iraq we were stationed in Hawaii at the time. The day that he left we said our good byes at home so that he would be able to do his job and get his marines ready without having to watch his family standing there crying. My oldest daughter then 5 and I were praying over my husband and randomly my daughter prays please keep the plane safe and not crash, at the time I thought that was kind of a odd thing for a 5yr old to say but I just agreed with her in prayer. The next day My dear friend Robin and her family told me I need to get out of the house and that they were taking us shopping. I remember we were standing in walmart and I received a phone call from my husband stating they had to turn around and come back to hawaii they had lost one of the engines of the airplane and had to dump fuel out of the plane into the ocean .They landed safely and had to leave the next day, but I thank God that he used my 5 year old to speak his words of protection over my husband.
Gave me goosebumps, Dawn. Wow. God is good. ‘Nuff said.
Mike, I have enjoyed your books thoroughly! Thanks for giving us a forum to praise our Father!
In October of 1995 I was hit with a brain anuerysm. There were many miracles that God performed in my healing but the one that strikes me most happened almost a year later. The year was filled with lots of pain, suffering and struggle and my husband was a strong pillar for me at the time seeing that I received what I needed both spiritually and physically to regain my strength and health.
What he could not do anything about were the thoughts going on in my head that I did not speak of. I had recurring shooting pains in my face and head and the thoughts were: you are going to die. Over and over again I would have the pain and the thoughts but you get numb to things sometimes and you forget that you are in a spiritual battle and take into yourself things that are not yours.
One weekend when it had been almost a year since I had the anuerysm I was attending a praise and worship seminar in Virginia ran by a minister friend of ours. We were sitting quietly just enjoying the presence of God when all of a sudden my minister friend who is also my spiritual father walked over to me and layed his hand upon my head (I had told him nothing) and rebuked the spirit of death and the spirit that was speaking death to me! I don’t remember everything he prayed but I definitely remember that from that day on I never had another pain nor thoughts of dying. The only way he could have know anything was by the Holy Spirit.
I honestly believe that I was being set up to believe that I was going to die and I believe that when that anniversary hit if things had not changed I would have.
Our Father has been so good to me to allow me to live and be able to give my testimony of His faithfulness and power! There have been so many miracles in my life that there is no doubt in my mind that our Father Yahweh loves us with a burning and passionate love and He desires the same from us! May we so love Him that we begin to look like Jesus!
Amen, Reggie! Thanks for sharing.
I hope this isn’t too long.
My story isn’t really unique, but it’s the story God gave me and I’ll praise Him for that and the miracles He’s shown me.
I had a happy and normal childhood as far as I can remember, with two brothers and a twin sister. I don’t really remember when my mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer, but she was very young. A little over a week after my sister and I celebrated our fourteenth birthday, my mother died at age forty-two. My father remarried and we moved in with him and our step-family, adding two new step-sisters we didn’t really know and a step-mother I resented because she was healthy while my mom was dead.
The next few years were very difficult. I was a monster to deal with, I can admit that. I don’t say all that as an excuse for what happened next, but as a simple progression from how things started, to how they progressed, and finally to where they are now.
I jumped into drugs and alcohol headfirst. Not my smartest of decisions, and I knew it at the time. I simply didn’t care. There was a period of a year or two where I didn’t talk to my dad, and I don’t think he was even sure of where I was.
Then God blindsided me. I was living in Florida at the time, working at Walgreens and partying every night. I thought I had life made, until my grandmother sent money for tickets to go see Passion of the Christ. I had no interest in going to see that. I was raised in a Christian home, I knew the Bible, and I’d run from it. I didn’t want to be reminded of the truth when I was living in the pit of lies.
But, after much pleading from my sister who lived near me, I agreed to go with her to see it. That was on a Sunday night. I did my best to play the petulant child while the movie played, trying my hardest to not let any of it soak in. The next week, I continued life as usual; perhaps a little drunker to ignore the calling in my mind to think things through.
The next Sunday my roommate comes home all excited and holds two movie tickets up to see…….. Passion of the Christ. I was like: What?! She didn’t go see movies like that. And what made her think I wanted to? But the tickets were already bought and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I went.
After my roommate dropped me back off at our apartment and went to see some friends, I sat in my living room floor and stared at my meager belongings. Movies that I’d spent a lot of money on. Books that I’d read over and over again. All of it filth. The most violent Spiritual battle went on in that small apartment, and not a word was said for hours.
Finally, Monday morning I gave up and gave in. I made a decision for Christ that day and started by throwing away all the junk that I’d been so proud of only days earlier. I called my grandmother first, and then my father second.
It took an act of God to repair all the damage I’d done not just to my own life, but to my relationships with everyone I knew. I’m clean and sober now, praise God. And today, I’m reconciled to my parents and family in a way that can only be considered miraculous. There are no ‘steps’ as far as we’re concerned, and God has given us relationships I never thought possible.
Thank you, Melin, for sharing that. Wow, what a miracle God did in your heart. Only Christ can change someone that radically!
I grew up in the church but became a Christian at the age of 13 shortly after the death of my grandmother. As we were going through her personal belongings, I found her prayer list tucked inside her Bible and my name was written on it. I felt God prodding telling me it was time to turn my life over to Him and follow His plan for my life.
Oh, how I wish it had been as easy as saying “Yes, Lord, let it be as You have said”; however, as most teenagers do, I rebelled. I stayed on course until I went to college at which time I was led to believe I knew the best course for my life and even though I still kept hold of my faith in God, I wandered away from the church after I married a man who misled me into believing that He was a Christian when even his actions showed me that he was not. Alas, love will make you do crazy things.
Doubts about getting married flooded my mind, but the embarrassment of cancelling the wedding overrode any doubts that entered my mind. Seven years later, pregnant and back home with my parents, it was apparent that I should have listened to those noisy voices in my head warning me this would happen. Throughout the 12 years that I was a single parent, God never once left my side even when I made some detours around His will. I felt His loving touch as I forged a new life for me and my daughter.
Jobs came and went and each new position led to new ways of leaning on God especially when I was sexually harassed at work and had to choose between doing the right thing or just walking away even when doing the right thing meant I would be the one to suffer the consequences. It was one of the worst experiences of my life and most definitely worse than going through my divorce.
God’s provision in my life has never wavered. He provided for me when I was making minimum wage and after I had moved on and into my dream job continued to provide for me when my position was terminated after a company buy-out. I never missed a day of work as my last day at one job was followed the next day with my first day at my new job.
When my daughter was 12 she was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome, a high-functioning form of autism. For information on what this has been like, watch Parenthood on NBC. After years of going to doctors and therapists, I finally had answers albeit not particularly great ones. Through lots of prayer and determination, my daughter, who I was told would not graduate from high school but might be able to learn a skill, graduated from high school with an advanced degree and is now employed at a major retailer as a sales associate.
I remarried around the time of her diagnosis. My husband and I decided to have a baby soon afterwards because I was nearing 40 and didn’t want to wait too long. We were married in September and I found out I was pregnant at the end of December; however, I had a miscarriage in January. Devastated, we agreed to try one more time. God was ever-present as I mourned the loss of our child and feared that I would not be able to have more children. In June, I found out I was pregnant again but I was experiencing a great deal of pain; however, everything turned out fine and we have a perfect, however humanly flawed, daughter who has brought more joy into our lives than we could ever have imagined.
We have struggled financially because I quit my job when she was born and things didn’t go as well as expected. I’m working full-time again, but it has been a difficult transition. I believe God still works in my life and that everything I have experienced is a part of His plan even though I made Him zigzag a lot.
I may not always follow the right path, but I always struggle to get right back on. It’s a process. Thank goodness God is patient and kind. He certainly has had to be with me.
I’m always amazed how patient and faithful God is. It’s easy to see His fingerprints on our life when we look back, isn’t it? Thanks, J. I needed to read that.
My mother-in-law is the family matriarch. We lived under her for years and it was a contributing factor in crippling my marriage. I kept asking God to release me from her control, but it only got worse. It’s a veryong tale, but the short version of God’s blessing, release and miracle was triggered by what He asked me to do.
I kept sensing God ask me to pray for my MIL. I didn’t for a long time, primarily because I was afraid God would ask me to walk more closely in relationship with her, to submit to her. I’m so foolish, not listening to God, being afraid of a person and His will.
Once I began praying for her, God released me from her control and even the relationship. Honest. He did. My marriage began to heal. My husband was able, after 15 years, to leave his mother and father and cleave to his wife. We even moved away.
Life is good. God is better!
each individual ^^^ is unique. each testimony…precious for its encouragement.
thanks mike, for providing an opportunity to share HIS goodness
“in the land of the living.” (psalm27)
God directed me to that passage during an especially dark time recently.
i have loved how He has been faithful…not only revealing more of Himself
but also patiently opening my eyes to glimpse what has always been there.
and IS there… His great love and compassion and plans for ME.
i immediately thought of two stories that i shared on my blog this year. i don’t know which to pick…both experiences life altering in ways i still don’t have words for. so i’ll copy and paste one and leave a link for the other. they are not happily-ever-after events. and yet…even through unthinkable grief…His providence is evident. His Grace is enough. and He surprises with Comfort and Peace that passes understanding. i’m sorry that they are so long.
{Grace has a Face}
I have a story on my mind. something that a recent aquaintance shared just the other day.
I cannot stop thinking about it…or him.
He is a kindly gentleman. not someone that I’ve known very long
But he is becoming a friend of our family
and I’m sure that we’ll be spending more time with him again soon in the future.
He’s mid-sixtys but not fragile.
Tall, well over 6 feet. His hair is completely white and rather wispy on top.
Sometimes kinda Albert Einstein-like, depending on whether or not his day included a hat.
He’s usually wearing a sport coat and is seldom without converse all-stars on his feet.
A quirky combination that I find appealing. and it fits him.
He likes to talk and does.
About pretty much everything.
He enjoys story telling and creating opportunities to laugh. even at himself.
His background of growing up in Atlantic City with his movie theater running family and working on the boardwalk
aren’t anything that my rural mennonite roots can relate to. but how fascinating.
Anyway. When we crossed paths last week,
in his early twenties and dating a girl.
he started telling me about when he was young, or young-er.
The Girl. the one who was love at first sight, he said.
He was so smitten that as he sat in the college math classes that he enjoyed,
{yeah. math is his thing. i cannot relate to that either.}
he couldn’t think at all. except about her.
He told me that she ended up getting pregnant.
They.were.devastated.
Not a good thing for him. not with his plans. his ideas. his goals and all that was going on.
Not a good thing for her either. no matter how much she wanted a baby someday,
it wasn’t then.
Not so soon.
And not unmarried.
Now, I really do enjoy learning about the childhood and younger years of others.
Like a clock spring being wound, so to speak. what has influenced and is a part of who they are, or aren’t, today.
what makes ‘em tick. or tick tock. or what has contributed to some of us popping out with an occassional cuckoo! cuckoo! on the hour.
But honestly? I was starting to feel uncomfortable. unsettled.
Like an invited passerby to someone else’s emotional past that rippled to affect the present.
I noticed contradictions. I tried not to. really I did.
I wondered if he could hear them.
and then realized that I probably don’t with my own…either.
But, ahem.cough.sputter. I would have really good reasons for mine, right?
I heard him try to convince himself.
someone.
anyone.
me.
that his baby was the most wanted ever on the planet.
But. abortion had definitely been considered an option. something suggested by his girlfriend he said. to which he agreed. then no. disagreed. only later retracting all those words and claiming that actually he was the one who first verbalized abortion as the way out.
So I felt confused. I heard him coping with his emotions that included saying what he wanted to hear, how he wanted it be. which left me wondering at times how it really was. or wasn’t.
I heard him talk about the open honest relationships that he values in his life…
and yet insist on noble sounding reasons for keeping his child a secret for as long as he could from most of those closest to him.
I heard him emphatically confess his own immaturity and selfishness. his lack of understanding of how traumatized his girlfriend was. I heard embarrassment and shame over what he communicated as failures. how terribly they fought. how they argued. how they were going to get married. then not. then they were again. and then how it finally came to her saying let’s not see each other at all anymore.
I heard how it was decided by the middle trimester that their baby would be put up for adoption.
And I wondered…what that baby sensed…
like the millions and millions of others
that grow under a lonely mother’s broken heart.
a person and place that only The Great I Am can hold, comfort and love on.
and i thought about that for a long time.
a long time.
I felt his eyes pleading for me not to judge. two desperate people feeling cornered and uncared for. I heard pain when he said that he saw his child only one time at twelve days old. I sensed his unspoken apologies. Later that baby, at about four weeks of age, was placed with an adoption agency.
And then he stopped reminiscing. he really didn’t venture beyond that.
Except to emphasize how loved that child always was and will be.
Like I said, I can’t stop thinking about this story.
How Grace has a Face…
it’s a divine gift
that sometimes can only be recognized through the lens of the present
as you look in the rearview mirror
and see Him…
afterall.
It was deeply touching. truly.
And stories that include people I’ve met can be especially near and dear.
I feel today, as I remember what was shared,
verses well up in my heart
for all of the people in the story.
“The Lord bless you
and keep you;
the Lord make his face shine upon you
and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you
and give you peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26
Grace has a Face…and it’s His.
The baby in the story is all grown up now.
And I happen to know her quite well.
actually, you might too.
at least
you know her here…
as Cindy at down_onthefarm.
Grace has a Face…and it’s His.
shining. gracious. peaceful.
and I’ve experienced it from the very beginning.
Cindy, thank you for sharing your story . . . and yet thank you isn’t enough. You’ve blessed me today. God’s faithfulness has blessed me and humbled me and brought me to tears. I would love to use both of these stories.
http://down-onthefarm.xanga.com/744126577/unthinkable-grief–indescribable-god/
My husband Tom and I had been married for 21 years and he was not a believer. I’d prayed long and hard for him and it seemed as if God didn’t even know my address. Tom was a good man, a moral man, good husband and father, but he was lost.
One night I had a dream. It was Dec. 10, 1994 and in my dream I was literally fighting satan for Tom’s soul. I fought him for 3 days and on the last day, I said out loud, “I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.” Satan was sitting in a corner of the room and he looked at me and smirked. I became angry, stood up in all my weakness and said, “But I’m not giving up!” Satan rose up out of the chair, walked past me so close I could feel his breath on my face and said, “Well, I am.” I woke up crying and later spoke to my pastor about it. His advice was that it’s probably going to happen soon.
Fast forward to Friday, May 19, 2000. I was in Joyful Noise, a Christian music store near my home and the owner asked me if my husband was saved yet. (We’d prayed for him together earlier.) I told her no, he wasn’t and she grabbed my hand and we began to pray. When I went to my car and got in, my heart was lighter, but then the Holy Spirit began to speak to my heart, saying, “Get ready for a celebration for the lost lamb is coming home.” Boy, I tell you what! I almost had to stop the car and get out and do a dance before the Lord.
Now, it’s Monday, May 22, 2000, just 3 days later. Tom and I are on our way to the nearest town to shop. Our town is incredibly small and we have to shop 12 miles away. We’re driving down the road and I asked him why he didn’t want to serve the Lord. (I had learned early on not to nag him about this.) He looked at me and said, “I want to but I just don’t know how.” And I replied, “Well, I do.” We pulled into the parking lot of Lifeway Christian Store and I led him in the sinner’s prayer. Glory to God! We went in the store and bought him a Bible and he has been serving God for 11 years now! He is an incredible source of encouragement to me also.
I have several chronic pain conditions that flare on occasion and last night I woke up in pain and I must have been groaning, for I felt Tom’s hand touch my shoulder and I knew he was praying for me.
I had prayed for him so long to come to Christ and I’d even save him a seat beside me in church! Not only did our precious Lord answer my prayer but He allowed me to be the one to lead my Tom to Christ. God is good.
The power of a praying wife, relentlessly praying . . . Susan, you’re story is amazing and I can’t wait to share it with everyone else in January.
“Lightning looks like those horses on TV that pull the big wagon,” I said at thirteen.
“Not quite, Jan,” my neighbor Kathy’s dad peered down at me over his glasses. “He’s got some draft in him though. He’s spirited, just like the horse I always wanted.”
Me too, I thought and was thankful for the rain washing away the tears I felt forming in my eyes.
Days later my other neighbor Sue and I brushed down Sue’s horses and sang oldies out of tune as we worked. We used hoes as mock microphones and sang with our eyes closed. Kathy heard us laughing and headed towards us.
“Whew!” Kathy exclaimed as she jumped down from the corral fence. “I’m tired of that horse and his acting out. His sunshine coloring hid his badness.” She took a deep breath and approached the two of us. “Jan, if you help me take care of Lightning, I’ll let you ride him.”
Kathy called after dark on Thursday, “Jan, I need your help with Lightning tomorrow night. I can’t feed him before we leave for William and Mary University to scout it out for my bro. You need to feed and water him, OK?”
I said. “I’d love to. Any special instructions?”
“You know the drill. The usual. Thanks.”
I entered the stall on Friday night and poured in Lightning’s sweet smelling oats. As I leaned over, I heard the gelding snap at my head. What was that? I ran out in a daze as
I felt and heard the air movement of Lightning’s hooves hit the side of the stable like a scooping shovel against the wood. Unreal. What is he doing?
I leaned against the door in a daze.
Sue ran over. “K-K-Kathy has been teasin’ Lightning. She holds out the oats, then jerks them away ‘nd runs off with ‘em for a while. Lightnin’ expected ya to do the same. He was in a fightin’ mood once he saw ya had the oats. I’m glad you weren’t hurt!”
“I am too,” I said. Thank God, and no thanks to Kathy. I can’t believe this. I ran home shaking with fear and anger. I cried myself to sleep and planned my next moves for dealing with Lightning.
Jan Parys
Thanks for the story, Jan. Sounds like God was really watching over you that day.
Mike,
I do believe He saved me physically that day but until I was spiritually saved I was not thankful for His protection.
I was a camp counselor back in 1995 at a Christian camp in Utica, NY. It was the weekend and a few of the counselors and I borrowed a coworker’s car and headed to the mall for the evening. As we traveled the highway at around 55 mph we could hear a thumping noise. We weren’t sure if it was a wheel or tire, or engine noise. We pulled over and checked things out. We didn’t see anything but figured we’d head straight to Sears to have them check it out. We got back on the highway and got back up to speed when the front left tire flew off of the car and bounced down the road. This all seemed to happen in slow motion. For a while everything was quiet and we continued to travel unhindered. Eventually the axle hit the pavement. At the speeds we were driving, this impact should have flipped our vehicle. It at least should have pulled us into oncoming 55 mph traffic. Instead, God drove the car off of the road into a parking lot on our right. The axle scarred the road. It was so amazing to look at that groove in the road and know that there was no “physical” explanation for why we were able to pull over. God continued to provide for us in many ways that night. We felt certain there was a spiritual battle going on around us. We were renewed and knew that God had more work for us to do. We finished the summer on fire for our work with the youth.
Thanks, Angela. I often how many times every day God intervenes in our life to protect us or thwart potential tragedy.
From the time I first became a Christian (1973), my faith was largely in my head. I read and studied; I took college-level courses in Old Testament, New Testament, the Life of Christ and Bible Study Methods. I read church history, becoming familiar with names like F.F. Bruce and Sir Wiliam Ramsay and even wading through Alfred Edersheim’s “Life and Times of jesus the Messiah.” I read J.I. Packer and C.S. Lewis. I read popular writers, too — Dobson, Swindoll, Stanley, Lucado and others. I learned how to use commentaries, Bible atlases and dictionaries, topical bibles and other resources. And I taught — adult classes, junior highs, children and toddlers.
Almost 30 years after becoming a Christian, I went on a short-term missions trip to Central Europe, and met God in a small church in Germany that had previously been a social hall for the local communist party. The details of the story are here: http://faithfictionfriends.blogspot.com/2011/12/coming-home-epiphany.html. The practical result of that experience in Germany was the head knowledge came face-to-face with the heart knowledge, and was found wanting.
For almost three decades I spoke it, explained it, encouraged it, argued it, defended it. and believed it. And then I experienced the reality of it. In the almost 10 years since that trip, I have been in a kind of wilderness, praying and writing, writing and thinking, praying and listening. Now the wilderness time is coming to an end. I don’t know exactly what that will mean, but I am content to embrace whatever it is that is coming. And something is clearly coming.
But I am struck speechless with God’s faithfulness.
Thank you for sharing this, Glynn. Can’t wait to see what God has in store for you!
I am a small town girl, raised in a Christian family and shielded from the evil that looms in this world. My world view of life changed when I entered 7th grade. Today we would say I was bullied. But 20 plus years ago, I was just made fun of, day and day out , where my so called friends would make fun of my voice, told me I was a ditz or air head, basically telling me I was dumb. It was my first exposure to how mean and insensitive people can be. I wish I could say that was my worst and most terrible experience, but God’s plan for my life would look much different.
One of my fondest memories as a child was spending the week with my siblings and cousins at my Grandma’s house in Lancaster County. I look back and chuckle about the fondness part, we all fought like cats and dogs for most of the week, but for all those times of tension, we have memories. Memories of my grandma taking us to see the many sights of Lancaster county, going for bike rides, skinny dipping in a creek for the first time, going on picnics, running in the park across the street from her house, and my favorite, her reading a different story to us each summer.
All those warm memories are clouded by a horrific memory during the summer of 1988; one of the last summers we all spent with her.
It was a HOT and humid night. You know the ones where sweat just rolls off your forehead as you sit there doing absolutely nothing. I remember that night my grandma fixed us watermelon and read us a last chapters of our story, and tucked us in bed. Since it was so hot she had every window in the house opened. As she has done so many times before she opened the back and front door locking the screen door. We went to sleep, hoping some type of small breeze would blow so we could experience a small amount of coolness.
I was awakened around 3:30 that morning with a stranger sitting on my bed. As if that wasn’t traumatic enough I quickly realized that my mouth was gagged and my hands were being tied together.
No matter how you slice it 13 year old half pint girls do not fight off full grown men, with the thoughts of rape on their mind. As I wrestled with this man, I was able to free my arms. After minutes more of wrestling I was able to break free from the gag, and scream for help. I don’t know how or why, but when I screamed that evil man, who was preying on innocent children, fled the scene of the crime.
Within a few minutes police were there to protect us. In some aspects this was the beginning of the nightmare, the months following that incident I couldn’t close my eyes without fearing the worst.
There have been separate emotional incidents along the path of my life that have exposed the injury of that hot and humid midsummer night so many years ago. God has always been FAITHFUL in at those times in showing up, giving me grace and strength, but most important the courage to move on, the courage to forgive, the courage to face the fear, the courage to not allow one night that changed my life to consume my life.
God’s faithfulness has not been in the not allowing bad things to happen; but in allowing healing from those horrific events.
“Scars are evidence of a journey” ( Deanna Blymire Salter) and evidence of God’s healing.
Carla, this is the first time I’ve heard this story. Thank you for sharing it. God’s grace is always sufficient, isn’t it? How great He is!
Mike – something I rarely talk about because I assume everyone knew/knows. I’m realizing that it is something that few know about, which is o.k. too, but really it is one of the top 5 of things that shaped me. I don’t want it to define me, but I want my story to be HIS story. Trying to figure out how to bring honor to God with it. Thanks for letting me pen it out. Today He gave me courage to share it for the world to see…..or at least your readers. Thanks for giving me that voice.
It was thirty five years ago and I had just given birth to my fourth child. Her father was an abusive drunk so I was going it alone. When she was a moth old she started having problems. I walked the floor with her day and night. She screamed all the time. The first thing on TV was Praise the Lord show.(before satellite) I was so frustrated that I couldn’t wait to turn it on. Also the last show on at night was Praise the Lord, I wasn’t a real believer but I followed that show every day and night.
At first my doctor told me it was my nerves but finally when she was six weeks he sent her to a specialist.(She had lost down to five pounds) The doctor found four major birth defects and told me she would need several major operations.
I called those people from TV. They led me to the Lord and then she asked me what I could believe for? I told her that I could believe for no surgery. She prayed that way and then prayed for me. Such a peace and comfort came over me. Moments later the doctor came in and said they needed to wait until she was stronger the perform the first operation.(Praise God) They put cereal in her formula to thicken it so it would stay down in her stomach. She had to sit up at all times in a car seat. They sent her home. When she went back at six months her heart had repaired it self. Her stomach was working properly. Her bones were not growing properly and he was worried about that and her kidneys were not working right but she had improved.
Over all it took about a year and a half for everything to be healed but she didn’t need to have major surgery. God was so good. through my daughter’s healing my entire family was saved. I have had many wonderful miracles but that has to be the greatest.
Glenda Parker
http://glendaparkerfictionwriter.blogspot.com
Glenda, our third daughter had ITP (idiopathic thrombocytopenia (a blood disorder)) and JIA (juvenile idiopathic arthritis) and we’ve had similar experiences with her. No matter what doctors say, God is the Great Physician and only he can give the final prognosis.
My son was diagnosed with a mental illness. Something that happens to other people. He was in the hospital and not speaking to us. He wouldn’t sign HIPPA papers, so the most we could to was talk generically to a case manager.
Part of an involuntary committment is hearings to assess recommittment. We had to face him across the room, and state why we felt he should stay in the hospital. He said it was all lies and the reason we were saying it was because we hated him, have always hated him. That afternoon we had an appointment with a person from a charity we support. It turns out he was in a counseling masters program and his brother had the same diagnosis as our son. Our appointment with this man had been made weeks earlier. What a miracle.
The case manager called to say our son was to be discharged. There was no place for him to go. He was mad at us, so didn’t want to live with us. His one sister didn’t have room, and he was mad at his other sister because she was part of his delusions. He was calling around and there was no place for him. This particular hospital did very poorly with wrap around services. They were going to discharge him to the street.
My back was in knots, my stomach nauseous, my head hurt, and there was no way I could fix this. I stewed about it for two days. Finally I told God “This is your mess, I’m giving it to you”. I can’t describe the peace I felt.
The next morning I get a call from my daughter. My son called her to see if he could live with her for a little while. Her and her husband had ALREADY discussed whether they would open their home to him, and decided they would.
I’m amazed at how God has everything in place ahead of time.
No, this story doesn’t have a happy ending. The mental illness didn’t go away. The God who orchestrates things BEFORE we even know it needs done, is faithful each day. Yes, I’m still hoping he’s working already to put into place events that will restore my son to me.
Doris, thank you for sharing this. I’m sure there are others in the same place you are that needed to hear your testimony of God’s provision and faithfulness.
My dad had been diagnosed with cancer and his prognosis did not look hopeful. They had given him only months to maybe a year at the outside. One evening the dreaded phone call came, my dad was in the hospital and not doing well. In fact there was not any hope for him to live. I quickly made arrangements to fly home to Phoenix. Some friends of the family greeted be soberly at the airport. On our drive to the hospital they tried to soften what I was about to see. When I entered the room of the hospital my dad was blown up twice his size. His gown had been cut to give his bloated body more room to expand. His skin was oozing liquid as a tumor was wrapped around the main aorta of his heart. There are no words for the emotion that swept throughout my heart and soul. I unexpectedly dropped to my knees and began to pray out loud. The doctors later came in and informed us that he would no longer be with us though the weekend. While sitting next to his side. I picked up a Bible and it opened to James, chapter 5. Verse 14 says, Is any among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: 15 and the prayer of faith shall save him that is sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, it shall be forgiven him. (ASV)
My extended family was Catholic but it did not matter to me who anointed him with oil but that he was anointed. My heart of hearts reached out in obedience but knew that this anointing would not guarantee his survival. The one thing I did know for certain was Gods words were loud and clear that it should be done. I spoke with my mother and she agreed and called a priest. We stood and prayed and watched his body slowly return to his normal size.
On Monday morning a Jewish doctor was doing his rounds and peeked in to see us all sitting in his room. We were helping my dad eat and regain his strength. I will never forget that doctor as he stood in the door and shook his head and repeated, miracle, miracle, and silently vanished into the hospital hallway.
I was able to speak with my dad about the importance of excepting Christ as his personal savior. We prayed together and I later witnessed him telling others how the room light up when he prayed and excepted Christ.
I often reflect on the reason that God granted this miracle. My reason was because I did not want to see my dad leave but I believe Gods reason was he wanted to bring another safely home.
My dad past away a year later. I was comforted to know that I will see him again in eternity. What a grand reunion it will be.
Cheryl, your dad’s healing is a perfect example of how it matters not by what means we put faith to use, what matters is the object of our faith. Jesus. Thank you for sharing this.
Mike,
Love your reply to Cheryl.
Blessings!
Thank you Mike for the opportunity to share of the grace and mercy found in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Thank you for the opportunity to share our faith stories.
My faith has been tested many times in my life and God has always been there when I or my family has needed Him in times of despair or trouble. Recently, I was having a very bad day at my place and work and my faith was tested to the brink. My secular self tried to overcome my Christian self, but God was right there and didn’t let it happen.
I’ve sat at the same desk for three months and never noticed anything out of the ordinary until I had become so stressed out my blood pressure had gone off the charts. I sat down and my cubicle and tried to prepare for the upcoming day of work. I had resigned myself to the idea I would not be productive and I would be miserable.
Well the Lord had other plans! I looked up and written in blue in on the white-washed wooden board were three words: JESUS LOVES YOU.
I knew then the Lord had placed those words there for me to see throughout my day, so I would remember His loves is stronger than myself and with His love I could overcome any obstacle in my way, even Satan…
Amazing how God so often gives us exactly what we need when we need it to get through the day!
Mike, I’ve hesitated to respond, because you know my story of God’s faithfulness during the past year and a half of beating breast cancer once again through God’s grace and strength. But I want to share about a promise that God gave me back in 1987 that took ten years to see fulfilled. At that time I was married to my first husband, a nonbeliever, who had a very bad temper. One day on his job he lost his temper, called me at work, and gave me the ultimatum of my marriage or my job. At that time I was working at Strang Communications also–working as a secretary in the magazine and book division. I called my pastor in tears, because I knew God had given me this job during the time my husband and I were separated. We had since then reunited. After prayer and counsel with my pastor, I honored my husband and submitted my resignation that day. The moment I handed in my resignation, I heard these words in my spirit, “You will be back.” Once I got home, my husband had calmed down and retracted what he had said, but I told him that I knew he preferred me to not work outside the home and to stay home with our three children, which I did (and I had a blast doing so and being part of their lives in school, etc.). Bottom line, years later we still ended up divorced, and I remarried in 1995. I had forgotten about that promise–”You will be back”–but in the process of job hunting in the years after 1995, I started freelancing with the book division of Strang. This I did up to November 1997, when I got a call offering me a copyediting position in the book group. I started December 8, 1997–and these have been the best 14 years of my working life. God honored my obedience in my submission (there it is–that “bad” word) to my husband even though he wasn’t a Christian, and He brought me back to a job I loved–but with more responsibilities and doing what He has gifted me with.
There is so much more I could share, but I chose this story because of the time between the promise and the fulfillment. And the fact that I had “forgotten” what God had promised, but He still brought it to pass.
Merry Christmas to you and the family, and many blessings!
Love it!!!!! Praise God for His mercy and love!
And, Deb, I’m so glad He brought you back to Strang. I love working with you on our novels!
Whew – what amazing stories have already been posted! Jesus has been at my side thru out many, many storms of life. His hand of protection has shielded me and my family several times. As an early Christian, I worked at my uncle’s paint factory. I didn’t have much wisdom in sharing about Jesus, but I surely had a lot of zeal! I was speaking with one of my fellow factory workers, and he stated that God doesn’t do miracles anymore. I said that I would pray that Jesus would show him a miracle to prove that he does! Be careful what you pray for! Within a couple of days, this same factory worker came up beside me on his forklift; loaded with a large pallet of 1 quart paint cans for us to fill. I asked him for some directions on which part of the assembly line he wanted me to work at. After finishing his instructions, he started to drive away. I immediately screamed in pain; he stopped the forklift; asking me what was wrong. He had driven over the top of my foot and the lift was setting on it. Through clenched teeth I asked him to “Get off of my foot!” I drove myself to the hospital; they did a thorough examination, including x-rays. There was not a cut or a scrape or any broken bones. When I came back to work the next day, I told him to come into the break-room so that I could show him my foot. Several workers gathered around, wanting to look, but afraid to look at my foot at the same time. I removed my shoe and sock; and low and behold; only a tiny blood blister on one toe! I then looked him square in the eye and told him that he now had his proof that Jesus does indeed still do miracles!
Shortly after we became engaged, my husband and I had the opportunity to go with a church group on a missions trip to a tiny little village in Mexico. Only a few people had indoor plumbing; if they did, they usually had an outhouse too! One of the miracles that stands out in my mind was the supernatural multiplication of our lemonade. The word had gone out amongst the villagers that there was to be a big party outside the orphanage. There were about 120 people gathered, the temperature was well over a 100 degrees! The orphanage was surrounded by a lemon grove and the owner had told them that they could have any lemons that hung over onto their property. Prior to the party we made lemonade from a dozen lemons; I think it made about 4 gallons; (two two gallon coolers). We saw how many people were there; and how hot everyone was getting. We prayed and asked Jesus to multiply the lemonade, like he multiplied the loaves and the fishes for the disciples! He did!! That 4 gallons of lemonade quenched the thirst of all of those people, plus that night at dinner the 15 of us each had a large glass at dinner!!
In 2002, my husband fell down the stairs at home; fracturing his neck between the first and second vertebrate. He was put into a neck brace and sent home. He was schedule for surgery at the end of November; which was rescheduled the day of surgery due to an emergency that the surgeon had to take care of for another patient. My husband had surgery on December 3; prior to sending him home, the halo brace that he was put into was tightened; He immediately felt enormous pain in his neck that was unbearable. He was sent home anyway. When he went back for his followup; the doctor did an x-ray and saw that the fusion that had been performed had become undone; and would need to be repaired. On December 18, he had to go back under the knife a second time to repair the fusion. Both times he was under anesthesia over 15 hours. On December 23, I had gone to see him; and he was literally green. I was sure that he was going to die, and that I would be a widow; left with 3 small children to care for. I stopped in the chapel on the way out of the hospital and prayed for my husband. Then crying and praying all the way home. I sent out emails to everyone that I knew; called everyone I could beseeching for prayer for my husband. Joyfully, Jesus spared my husband and his recovery; while still extremely slow was becoming apparent. At that time we were involved with a newsletter mailing to inmates in Danville. Naturally, we hadn’t yet put out the December newsletter due to everything happening in the family. A few days later, we received an amazing letter from one of the inmates who was a wonderful brother in Christ. He said that he had been praying for us; and he felt that there was a battle going on for my husband’s life. He stayed up all night on December 23; praying for him. He felt a release to go to sleep on the morning of December 24th knowing that all was well. He sent us the letter a couple of days later. Talk about Jesus moving the hands of his prayer warriors! Throughout all of our struggles, illnesses, etc. Our faith in Jesus has remained strong; true to his Word, He has never left us, nor forsaken us. He has always walked alongside us; carrying us when needed and strengthening us for each day.
Great testimony, Peggy. Thank you for sharing. Jesus never fails!
One of the biggest ways God has shown me His faithfulness is in restoring what was lost to me in my sin, in the days before my salvation. I had a wonderful relationship with my cousin, so much so that we called each other “best cousins”. I moved out of the state we lived in and we lost touch. I started dating a guy when I was 15. Neither of us had any business being in a relationship at all, let alone with each other. He was a year older than me, but was just as immature. A miserable 3 year on again off again high school relationship ensued. When I was getting ready to graduate high school, my cousin came out to see me graduate. Somehow or another in God’s plan for our lives, my cousin and my boyfriend started a relationship. It was devastating. To me personally, to mine and my boyfriend’s and mine & my cousin’s relationships, and in the relationship between our moms. For 5 years I struggled with unforgiveness, anger, bitterness, and guilt. She and I were not on speaking terms. I was forced to see him from time to time, which did not aid the healing process. Finally, in 2005, my husband of 8 months & I attended a church for the first time together. That day the Lord met me, and I laid my sins and burdens at the foot of the Cross. I took His mantle upon me and felt burdened to send her a Christmas card. That was the beginning of a restoration between us. I never knew the power of what God could do, and over the course of the last year or two He has restored our relationship to the point where it is almost as though nothing ever happened between us. All Praise and glory and honor to Him Who sits upon the Throne!
I’m always amazed at the power of Christ to heal broken relationships. He alone knows our hearts.
Yes He does! I am so amazed every time I think about that whole situation, and I can’t retell it without weeping for joy and gratefulness. I know He can restore ANY relationship if He could restore that one!
Mike,
Here’s a little story I wrote for a college assignment. Made an A, by the way, for both English 1&2 (and for all of my papers). Hope you enjoy it!
I pray your family has a very Merry Christmas.
—————————————————————————————————————–
Timothy Wayne Johnson
Mrs. Sharp
ENC 1101
29 Nov 2009
717 words
Divine Resolution
I have witnessed or been privy to many wondrous events throughout my life, but none as perpetually powerful as this tale. Though many were present (even several authoritative figures) I was too young, and definitely not witness to the following miracle — because I am the miracle.
The time was 1974, a few days before the dawn of a new year. I was eleven months old, and had contracted an unknown virus. The fever had not subsided by New Years Eve day, so my mother took me to the doctor and was given a prescription housing incorrect medication, which only increased the severity of my symptoms later into the evening. My mother had been up all night, tending to me, praying for the sickness to end, yet by morning it had only worsened.
I was taken to the Wauchula Palmetto Clinic, and put under the care of Dr. Palmer, Dr. Carmichael, Dr. Sayer, and nurse Mary Wilson. All of my immediate family and about forty members of Avon Park’s Church of God, including the pastor, came to the clinic and prayed for my healing, though my health only continued on a downward spiral.
When my grandfather received word of my illness, he rushed to the clinic, though by then it was too late. Doctor Palmer came from the room with a downcast expression. After doing everything possible, they carried me to another room — death had taken me. It was then that my grandfather fell on his knees, cried out to God, promising lifetime service in return for my life. Within ten minutes, Doctor Palmer returned with a grin, saying that I had revived, and was going to be all right. Once my grandfather finished praying, he told my mother that I was going to have twice the strength of an average man, yet it would be many years later that science, technology, and outright visual demonstration proved it to be true.
Some misunderstood my grandfather, believing that I was now nearly immune to sickness, disease, or any other form of debilitation. That, however, was not the case. I could still catch colds and the flu, get food-poisoning, have headaches, come down with skin rashes (due to detergents and various weeds), and even injure myself, though the instances were usually few and far between. Fortunately, my childhood and young adult years were virtually devoid of a doctor’s office, as I never again had any chronic, life-threatening illnesses.
Instead, my adolescent days were the same as most other young boys: playing hard, getting dirty, and being very athletic, though I never had an affinity for any particular sport. That changed at age thirteen, when I grew fond of the martial arts, and eventually weightlifting, which led me to obtain a first degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, with some additional training in Judo, Hap Ki Do, and Ronin Goju Karate.
It was 1995, after being hired to work at the phosphate mines, when I stepped foot (not by my choice) in the doctor’s office to get a physical — two of them to be exact: one from a public doctor, one from the company. The examinations proved some interesting and unusual results: I had better than perfect eyesight and hearing; I had the lungs of an eleven-year-old, and X-rays revealed that I had an “extra bone” of some sort in my pelvic region, which the doctors (though disconcertingly baffled) said that it was somehow enhancing my skeletal structure beyond normal means.
I went on to confound my fellow coworkers with little feats (oblivious to me) of strength such as breaking fairly tough and large, brand new, solid steel valve handles from water pipes. Lifting and moving sections of steel girders that weighed a few hundred pounds when cleaning up debris, and lifting things in general that were considered “too heavy and unsafe” to lift. For the majority of my adult life I have had people saying to me, “Don’t touch that Tim, you’re going to break it!” I just shrug.
My grandfather has been gone for nine years as of this writing, but God’s promise to him still holds true. I owe my life to my grandfather because of his humbleness; and I owe my life to God because of that single act of divine resolution.
Mike, I received your request and decided to write something close to my heart. I pray those who read take heart that God has a huge plan for the lives of those He’s called. Here you go.
It was December 2009 and after five years of painstakingly getting out of bed early to put words to paper, my 365 page devotion book was complete. I admired my own craftiness. The ability to rediscover so many stories during my life and place them in the form of devotion in such a unique fashion was sheer brilliance… to my pea-brain anyway! I thought this book was going to grant the freedom from my day job. I would quit and become Jerry Jenkins, traveling the world sharing witty stories. But God’s plan is often very different from mans.
My quick search for publishers led me to a small web site called Christian Devotions Ministries. The site led me to the “Write for Us” link and I immediately began altering one of my five-star devotions. After a quick alteration to meet the word count requirement, I pressed send. I knew stardom was close at hand.
One-week later, I received a warm email from a sweet southern gal named Cindy. She said my devotion showed promise… Wait, what was that again? My devotion showed promise? This was my All-Star devo! What did “showed promise” mean? As I continued to read the note, she explained a couple errors that were contained in my writing and attached her ideas. With fingers trembling, I opened the attached file… to my horror; there were more red splotches than black.
I closed the document and gazed at the file containing my book, the same file that contained hours of labor, deliberation and Bible study. “No publisher in their right-mind would choose to publish this.” I sat in self-pity; five years of work now needed a complete makeover. “God, why?” I didn’t know what else to say.
A few weeks later, I felt another tapping on my shoulder. “Go open your email.” It was New Years Day, a time for my family to hang-out, play games and eat lots of food. I didn’t have time for this, but I was pulled to my computer. The inbox flashed with a new message from Christian Devotions Ministries. The daily devotion was written by Eddie and Cindy, the co-founders of the ministry. “God, I don’t have time for this.” But I couldn’t force my eyes from the screen as the joy contained in the devotions poured into my broken heart. They spoke of goals, prodigals and God’s will. I opened a new message directed to Cindy and typed something very simple, “Thank you for your encouraging words. I will be sharing this with my friends.”
A few hours later, I received this back:
Wow Scott,
Thank you so much. The ministry is to spread the word of God through encouragement
and hope. Occasionally, it’s nice to have someone else verify that we’re doing the right things. Thank you so much. How would you like to join us on our He Said She Said radio show tonight at 7 EST and tell our listeners how the devotions have impacted you? It would be a great start to the New Year.
It’s a real invitation to join Eddie and me on our He Said, She Said radio show. It’s just a phone call for you. Will you join us?
Cindy Sproles
My mind swam. “Wow! I can’t believe what I’m reading. But I don’t have time for this, its New Years! But what if this is what you want God? Are you showing me a way to talk about my book? Is it actually better than what I think? But what if this brings more embarrassment than good? You are going to have to tap my shoulder again, because for now, I’m going to pretend like I never received this.” I closed my computer. For two hours I helped in the kitchen and played games with the kids, but my mind kept returning to the email. I found myself again sitting in front of my computer crafting a response to accept the invitation.
I talked for 30-minutes with Eddie and Cindy on their program and later after the show, God talked to them about me. Today my book still sits on my computer desktop. I look at it every now and then to remind me that I still have work to do. But God’s timing is perfect and for some strange reason, He didn’t want my book to be published yet. God’s plan was for me to host a radio show… me, a guy with no experience. That was two years ago and I’ve been at the helm of Christian Devotions Speak UP ever since. Psalms 20 says:
1 May the LORD answer you when you are in distress;
may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
2 May he send you help from the sanctuary
and grant you support from Zion.
3 May he remember all your sacrifices
and accept your burnt offerings.[b]
4 May he give you the desire of your heart
and make all your plans succeed.
5 May we shout for joy over your victory
and lift up our banners in the name of our God.
As you approach the New Year, remember that God is control. Submit to His will and walk through the door He opens. Keep your eyes peeled, for the door might not be the one you desire, but the one He desires for you.
Scott, thanks for sharing this. I’m sure it will be a huge encouragement to many people. I know it encouraged me!
I’d been a Christian since I was eight years old, but God’s power truly showed up in my life 25 years later. I was in the hospital for surgery I’d had multiple times in the past due to a chronic condition. But when I woke up this time, I was paralyzed on my left side.
After years of physical, occupational and speech therapy, I had regained a lot of abilities previously taken for granted, but still couldn’t work or live on my own. Consequently, I was angry, resentful, and bitter at the surgeon, feeling that my life had no purpose anymore. The worst part though was my anger at God. After all, He’s all-powerful, so why didn’t he prevent it?
I buried my emotions for years until, one day, I blew up at two of the people I most loved and who had taken care of me the whole time–my parents. I was still dependent on them which made it worse, as I couldn’t escape and pretend it hadn’t happened.
It took many months of therapy, working through grief over everything I’d lost, and ‘yelling’ at God when I spoke to Him, But over time, I came to realize that God hadn’t taken away my purpose in life and he hadn’t rid me of the ability to help others, He had simply changed what that would look like. so my ‘job’ became tryIng to figure out what He wanted me to do now. That, in turn, required praying more and asking for guidance as to where to look. And that he would help me recognize the opportunities he set in front of me.
When circumstances come into your life that you can’t understand, talk to God. Be honest with Him. He already knows what you think and feel. And persevere. in His time, He’ll answer and, though the answer may surprise you, it’s HIs plan and will be the best in the end.
Ellen, I’m a big supporter of being honest with God. He’s big enough take our raw emotions. Thank God for His faithfulness.
I grew up in an alcoholic home. My father drank heavily, and my sister also started drinking when she was 16 and I was three years old. While my father has been passed on these last 11 years, Carol is 61 and still struggles with alcoholism. Growing up, I was told everything was about willpower. I was taught that if I wanted something badly enough and worked hard enough at it, I could make it happen. My dad led me to believe that Carol, too, could stop drinking on her own, if she only wanted to. She almost died once, and landed in the hospital many times throughout her life.
Jesus took my heart on March 5, 1997 and my life has never been the same since. Even when all I can pray is “Please God” I know He hears.
It wasn’t until I joined Al-Anon this past year that I really understood Carol has a disease. I had to forgive her, and my father, for all the past and just love her through anything that might happen now or in the future. Alcoholism is indeed a “cunning, baffling, and powerful” illness – only basically controlled by never taking the first drink, which is simple but not easy.
This past week, during Christmas season, which can be difficult and stressful under the best of circumstances but can be especially tough for an alcoholic, my sister relapsed after almost two years of sobriety. She didn’t tell me, but I could hear it in her voice on the telephone. Then, I couldn’t get in touch with her at all this weekend. She wasn’t answering her cell phone or land line, and wasn’t returning messages.
Never before have I relied on the Serenity prayer so much. I prayed, over and over: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” One day at a time, one minute at a time, I went through the motions of this past weekend and put the care of my sister in the hands of a mighty God. Finally, she called back Monday and said she had been depressed the past few days and had not answered any calls. I talked to her for a while until I felt certain she was all right.
When I spoke with her this morning, she sounded much stronger, and even looked forward to our Christmas Eve gathering. This may not seem like much, Mike, but these are miracles of the heart. See, before I might have been confrontive. I might have even asked directly if she had been drinking. But that’s not my business anymore. My job is to take care of myself and to love her as best I can. She has an illness kept in remission only by abstinence. I have an illness too that is kept in check by attending meetings and talking with my sponsor.
Prayer works. God always answers. Maybe not always the way we want Him to, and not in the time we would like, but He walks us through, because He loves us more than we could ever imagine. May you have a blessed and Merry Christmas. I know we will!
Christina, I have a suspicion that those “Please, God” prayers are some of the sweetest to His ears.
My “Frantic” Moment
Why didn’t they pass? I drove five over the speed limit. The car behind me tailgated aggressively with their brights full blast in the rear view mirror of my clunker. A simple shopping trip to escape the house in the evening quickly became a nightmare. Our area of town had no police station, and I didn’t know where one was located over the freeway on the other side of town. There were two men in the front of the other car, but their silhouettes were all I could see. At eighteen years-old, I had no cell phone and I sat in the driver’s seat alone with my hands clenching the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened.
All I did was make a right hand turn against a red light. Perfectly legal, and at the time, there were no cars on the road except for quite a distance away to my left. I turned right and merged into the middle lane. My eyes checked the mirror and I began to drift over to the far left lane and swerved suddenly to avoid hitting a car that was suddenly in my blind spot. That’s what started it. I returned to the middle lane to wait for them to pass and they went behind me into my lane. That’s when the brights came on and my nightmare began. I sped up. They sped up. I slowed. They slowed.
My foot pressed on the gas and the speedometer needle crept upward until I was twenty over the speed limit, praying for a police officer to pull me over. As I approached a major intersection, the traffic lights turned yellow, then red. My eyes widened. I wanted to cry. What if they had a gun? What if they shot me? All the what-if’s ran through my mind. As a writer, it’s what we do best. There were three lanes and a generous left turn lane. I swerved to the left-hand turn lane. It had a large margin in case they tried to pull up beside me. My doors were locked. I double checked. I sat at the red light with my insides like oatmeal and my hands sweating over the steering wheel.
What was I going to do? Oh Lord! It felt as if a lot of time passed as I lifted my eyes to the rear view mirror to check on the car following me and my heart stopped. My breath came whooshing out between my lips as I saw a police car behind me instead of the people who meant me harm. To my right, the car that followed me sped off, tires squealing through the green light and I continued on my way to Kmart, shaken and thankful.
I came home and called the police to thank the officers who arrived just in time. I gave the crossroads and told the operator what had happened, but because of the brights, the dark night, and my panicked state I had no plate or description of the perpetrators and never saw them again. I thanked God, too, though at the time I didn’t have a full picture of who God was, but He’s been evident throughout my entire life saving me sometimes supernaturally and showing me His presence as I sought him out to fill the emptiness inside.
So glad you came out of it okay, Nikole! Thank God for His protection.
Amen to that!
Here’s a post I have on my blog that tells my story:
I was saved when I was 11 and baptized at the same time as my brother. It was probably appropriate that I was saved at a Truth concert at our church because music has always been an important part of my life. Through the years music has been a constant joy for me, whether performing or teaching or directing. God has done a work in me to change the focus from recognition for myself to glory for Him. I am learning to change the focus from my talent or skills to His mercy and grace. The message is all important.
As I look back on the defining moments in my life, I see God’s hand in the details of everyday life as well as in the big picture. From marrying my spouse to giving birth to two biological children and later homeschooling them, God was molding me in ways I could not see. Through disappointments in church music ministry to the decision to adopt children, God was preparing me for a road of pain and heartache.
In 2000 God led our family of four to add three siblings to our family. The events and details of this decision were clearly God ordained. Three months after the kids became part of our family my sister died from a sudden heart attack at the age of 53. Through the pain and grief my kids needed me to be present and not dwell on the loss. Little did I know that greater losses and tragedy would come in the near future. We were ignorant of the cost that adopting 3 children, suffering from Reactive Attachment Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and se*ual abuse, would bring to our family. Educating myself and advocating for them became a fulltime job. Realizing that after 4 years the oldest was a danger to our family and herself and needed help beyond our abilities was a gut wrenching decision. Through her next 4 years into adulthood we continued to fight for her as she fought against us. Bringing false accusations of abuse against us ripped my heart to shreds. But God was my ever present help in times of trouble. We have been through heartaches and joys but never has God taught me more about Himself than through the times I’ve spent surrendering my plans and my dreams to His will. It has been a painful process that requires daily discipline and strength.
I have learned about God’s love through my children who struggle daily with questions about their life and reality. Every conversation leads us back to acceptance of who we are to God and what He says about us. The scriptures tell us that we are all adopted children of God. None of us can earn our way to God. It’s His great sacrifice that allows us to come into His presence. There is so much I don’t understand, but one thing I know (as Steven Curtis Chapman says): God is God and I am not! I may never know the reasons for suffering and pain and struggles, but I do know the One who loves me unconditionally. My constant prayer is that my children will have a relationship with the Lord that allows them to bring their pain and questions before Him, that they will come to a place of acceptance and joy.
Update: My blog contains so much more of my story, but the continuation of my story is that my parents went into a nursing home in Dec. 2007 without ever being able to go home again. It was a very difficult time for me, juggling homeschooling, two special needs adopted kids, two older children learning to fly from the nest. My dad died in Feb. 2009 and my mom died Christmas Eve of last year. She wandered outside her assisted living facility and froze to death. The shock and grief have only been coped with by faith in God’s great love and perfect plan. So many hardships have marked the last 11 years since we adopted. There has been tremendous gain and heartbreaking loss but through it all I have clung to the One who gives peace and sustains. God bless you.
When I was engaged to be married, 25 years ago, my fiancee was diagnosed with Systemic Lupus Erythamatosis, a chronic, autoimmune disease that can affect the joints and almost every major organ in the body, including the heart, kidneys, skin, lungs, and brain. In this disease, the immune system, which is designed to protect against infection, mistakenly attacks the body’s own tissues and organs causing damage and inflammation. Over the years, she suffered many periods of remission and exacerbations and much medication, which also haa severe side effects.
We were not supposed to have children due to this disease, but after loosing two children,(one miscarriage and one live child at 32 weeks, all due to this disease), God granted our wish and blessed us with two daughters who are now 19 and 16 yrs respectively.
In 2004, my wife started to experience severe headaches that became more frequent and more severe each day. After being to doctor after doctor and hospital after hospital and being told diagnosed with many things ranging from attention seeking, hypochondriacism, anxiety, unexplained headaches and pain relief not having any effect, we were at the end of our tether. One morning after both of us not getting much sleep we managed to see her doctor who had been away when all this happened. He organised a brain scan, (no one else had done this so far!) and it was revealed that she had a brain haemorrhage that covered 90% of the left hemisphere of her brain. She was admitted immediately to hospital and had surgery to evacuate this haemorrhage.
We were both devastated and as nurses, we knew how serious this was and the outcome could end in death.
When I left my wife in hospital that day, I had to then collect my children from school and break the news to them. They were 12 and 9 yrs respectively.
Breaking this news to them also broke me. How do you tell your children that their mother has a major illness, needs surgery and could die from either the haemorrhage or the surgery or both? How do you tell them that if she survives she may have brain damage and not be the same again? How do you deal with their emotions and grief?
This was one of the most difficult decisions/situations I was in. I had already determined that I could not hold any details back from them as they would know this and demand me to tell them. I know my kids and with-holding information would not work with them or myself.
This is what broke me. I realised I could not do this on my own. I was at the end of myself. I did not have the strength to tell them and prepare them for the worst case scenario or to even face this reality myself. In my brokenness, I realised that the only one who could help me would be God. So before I told them, I cried out to God, I told Him, I could not do this on my own, that I need to do it for my kids, I owed it to them to now be the stronger one in their lives now. I cried and cried, I asked Him to take over from me. I found myself saying to Him that I accept whatever His will is for my wife and our family. I knew I had to give all the outcomes over to Him and let Him decide. I decided that if He healed my wife with no side effects, if she survived with brain damage or if she died, I would accept that this is what He wanted for me and I had to acknowledge that He is still Sovereign, loves me and allowed this for His glory. In all this time pouring out my heart to Him, I knew it would do no good for me to harbour any bitterness or resentment towards Him. But I still stated to Him that despite all this, I would still like my wife to be healed and brought back to myself and our daughters and be restored as a family. I had no other source of strength, purpose or motivation to go on except to give all this over to Him and let Him continue to be in control.
When I did tell my daughters, they cried and I cried. They immediately wanted to visit their mother before the operation. We did. On the way there, they were honest with me about how they were feeling and even asked me how I was feeling. We discussed all our emotions and I then let them know what I had discussed with God. I was so impressed and relieved when they also stated they felt the same way. I know that on the surface that it may have appeared superficial but again, I knew my kids and knew they would not have agreed to that without honesty and sincerity as they had already developed a healthy respect for and relationship with Jesus.
There were two more major hurdles in our way that we did not perceive. They both reminded me of the severity of the situation we were all in and that we had to continue to rely on God to see us through this.
The first was when my wife was wheeled into the operating theatre where we gave her many hugs, kisses and that we loved her. We said we looked forward to seeing her after the operation. What was extremely hard was walking away from the theatre doors after she was wheeled into the theatre. The reality of the situation hit us very hard. We cried again. We were rather silent on the way home. My elderst suggested we do some housework while we were waiting to hear how the operation went as a way to preoccupy our minds as we were getting very scared.
The second hurdle was when the phone rang 5 hours later. I knew it was the hospital. But I could not bring myself to answer it. Doing so would mean I had to confront and accept whatever outcome it was. It was my eldest daughter who forced me to answer it. She stated that God would give me the strength to accept whatever the surgeon had to say. This was what I needed. I suddenly felt warm, at peace, reassured and could feel His presence around us. I picked up the phone and yes, it was the surgeon. With a pounding heart and body in full sweat, I could not believe my ears when he said the operation was a success and they had evacuated the entire haemorrhage!! I nearly dropped the phone in happiness and relief! My daughters thought it was the worst case scenario as I had not spoken, had gone pale and was staring out the window. Meanwhile the surgeon was asking me if I was still there and did I understand what he had said! This brought me to my senses and time stopped going in slow motion and I gasped and then replied to him. I thanked him immensely and hung up the phone. Many days later, we would be told by this same neurosurgeon that she was an hour away from death!
I related this to my daughters who were overjoyed and cried again! (must be a female thing!! LOL) We then went to the hospital. My wife was in Intensive Care and we were only able to see her briefly.
To speed things up somewhat, my wife’s recovery was amazing. After having some short term memory loss where she did not recognise me, but did her daughters, (go figure!! LOL), and learning how to walk, talk, speak and to perform basic tasks such as making a cup of tea, make her bed, go through various neurological tests and pass, she was allowed home in a month. She then spent the next 6 months in rehab as an outpatient. She made great progress.
The only brain damage she had sustained was hearing loss in one ear and now has trouble remembering some things. But this is manageable and one learns to compensate for these deficients.
Now you would not know she is like this. It is not obvious. From talking to her then and now, this incident has not faltered her faith in God, nor has it faltered ours. It has only served to strengthen and deepen it. Apart from what He achieved for us on the Cross, I am ever indebted to Him for bringing us out of this dark valley, bigger, stronger, wiser and better in faith and in relationship with Him.
There have been many accounts from church members even to this day who have been blessed and strengthened by our situation and what God has done. This has all been for His glory. May He be forever praised and glorified!!
Thank you SO MUCH for sharing this, Peter. We had a similar struggle breaking the news to my girls that I had cancer. How do you explain cancer to a child? Praise God for his healing and faithfulness. And thanks again for your testimony.
Yes, I thought of you when I was writing this!! Your story reinforced what we had gone through.