Innehållsförteckning för August/September 2019 från Mysterious Ways

Have you ever been in a situation where it seems as if things will never get better? Where you feel like you’re stuck and can’t move forward? That’s exactly how I felt about four years ago. I had recently moved to New York. My seasonal job had ended, and I found myself unemployed. I had a few options I was waiting to hear back from, but at that moment everything seemed pretty dismal. Most of us have something that we treat ourselves to in order to cheer us up when we’re feeling down. For me, it’s coffee. So I took myself out to my favorite café. Sitting there, I still felt melancholy. Until I noticed something. My phone, which was sitting faceup on the table, had somehow navigated to the…

My three-year-old son’s cries jolted me awake. I rushed to his room. Michael was sitting up in bed and crying. “Bramble, Mommy,” he said through tears. I pulled him to me and stroked his soft hair. “It’s just a dream, Baby,” I told him. “Bramble isn’t real. He can’t hurt you.” For weeks now, my son had been having the same recurring nightmare—about a bald man called Bramble. In the dreams, Bramble stood in our backyard, staring in Michael’s bedroom window. He never tried to harm Michael in the dreams, but my son was terrified. It had gotten to the point where he was afraid even to lie down in his bed. I hated seeing him like this. My husband, Mike, thought Michael’s dreams were so strange that he began…

John Tafone It was my first week teaching a musical theater history class, and I wanted to show some selections from The Sound of Music. My classroom didn’t have internet, so a DVD was the only option. The problem was I couldn’t find a DVD of the 1965 classic anywhere in New York City. Every store I went to was out of stock. I tried three libraries. No luck. By the time I passed by the Jefferson Market Library on the way home, I’d already given up. Yet I had this nagging feeling that I should go in and check. “The library system has several copies of The Sound of Music,” the librarian said. “But they’ve all been checked out.” She explained the copies could be anywhere in New York;…

He isn’t! At least, not all the time. Many people throughout history testify to epiphanies. Jesus’ visitation is the clearest of these. Nevertheless, God is usually invisible. I believe God deliberately hides his countenance to prevent humans coming to him as mere spectators interested in prodding and examining him. Instead, God provides the clues—including occasional unexpected visits—that lead to the proper path for humble worshippers. Richard Shumack, RESEARCH FELLOW AT AUSTRALIA’S CENTRE FOR PUBLIC CHRISTIANITY No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. I John 4:12 (NIV) Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. Saint Augustine of Hippo The most important…

“Jackie,” the voice said. It had pulled me from a deep sleep. I squinted out into the darkness of my bedroom. “Jackie.” My husband was asleep beside me. In front of me, I saw…myself. I was interacting with someone, having a wonderful conversation. I couldn’t see the person’s face, but the presence felt familiar. “Jackie,” the voice said again. Mom? It had been decades since we spoke, but I’d recognize her voice anywhere. Who can forget her mother’s voice? As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I took in the scene. I should have felt nervous during this out-of-body experience. Instead I felt peaceful and happy watching myself in my mom’s presence. I could see the smile on my own face and feel the joy radiating from Mom. As if…

Hawija, Iraq. June 2004. Clack! Clack! Clack! Bullets whizzed by. Everyone ran for cover. The gunfire had come out of nowhere. I ducked behind a concrete wall and looked for the rest of my unit. They were more than 45 feet away, too far for me to get to. “Hold position!” my sergeant yelled over the gunfire. We were in a bad spot. We needed backup and couldn’t move until another unit got to us. I took a deep breath and reloaded my gun. BOOM! The ground exploded, shrapnel blasting through the air. Pain seared through my side. I was flat on my back. Was I hit? Breathing fast, I ripped open my body armor and stuck my hand inside. When I pulled it out, it was covered in blood.…

Beauty and the Beast! Live on stage! I slowed the car to read the sign more clearly. The same sign that was posted on practically every telephone pole along the whole block. My old high school was putting on a musical. Mom would love this, I thought. I’d been searching for something to cheer her up since my dad’s death. She’d already been living with dementia for a while. In some ways we were lucky. Mom could still live at home with my brother, where I visited her several times a week. She still recognized her family, even if she’d forgotten many details about her life. In fact, the loss of those details might have been a blessing. Mom couldn’t dwell on the memory of Dad’s last days. Sometimes she…

I was an active alcoholic for more than a decade. I drank through high school, college, law school and the start of my legal career. I burned through two marriages and could barely function at work. Why not just quit and slink back to the small town where I’d grown up? There would be no legal work, nothing to get in the way of my drinking. Mulling over my plans to leave everything behind, I finally hit rock bottom. I hated what alcohol had done to my life. Something had to change. I thought I could stop on my own. Yet as much as I wanted to get sober, I could not resist the urge to drink. Begrudgingly I tried Alcoholics Anonymous. I got as far as the first step…

I’ve gone to the same church for years. I’ve served on the board, taught Sunday school, sung in the choir, prayed for others and been prayed for. I suppose you could call me a pillar of my faith community. But what would happen if you took all that away—and while you were at it, you erased my identity as a writer and editor of an inspirational magazine like Guideposts? Where would my spiritual life be? Those were the questions I found myself wrestling with as I read Yongey Mlngyur Rinpoche’s memoir In Love With the World. I don’t think I’m so in love with the world that I couldn’t give it up, but could I? Could I really? All for the sake of my faith, as Rinpoche did? A Tibetan…

Sunday afternoon, August 17, in Sioux City, Iowa, 2,296 miles into our cross-country bike tour, my husband, Tim, and I had to stop. My lower right leg was killing me. I’m tough. This wasn’t our first long-distance bike trip. I’d ridden through pain before. But not pain like this. My calf was swollen and throbbing. I made an appointment with an orthopedist for first thing Tuesday morning, hoping Tim and I could check out of our hotel and be on our way right after that. No such luck. The doctor diagnosed chronic compartment syndrome, an exercise-induced muscle condition. The treatment? Rest and ibuprofen. I might need to abstain from exercise for a few months, he said. I don’t have months! I thought. I had to get back on my bike.…

We were stuck at home. My husband, Tom, and I had been forced by the surprisingly frigid weather to cancel our golf outing with friends. We’d been looking forward to it for months. Our deposit for the time slot was nonrefundable. But spending the day shivering and miserable was not what we’d had in mind. We planned to meet our friends for dinner instead. Getting ready that evening, my husband showered and shaved. He came out to dress. I giggled as I watched him put his arm through the wrong hole of his shirt, then stare at it, uncomprehendingly. “Are you trying to be funny?” I asked. “No, I’m in trouble,” Tom said. His speech was slurred. Something was off. I rushed him down the road to the hospital, just…

Forty-three years ago, optometrist Jacob Liberman found himself at a crossroads. He felt called to help people see more clearly, but the pursuit left him with a question: Was true vision limited to what the eye could perceive? He took up meditation to find answers. During one meditation session, he had an incredible experience that changed his view of the world forever. Since then, he’s devoted his life to the study of light, perception and consciousness. His experience and discoveries are the subject of his latest book, Luminous Life. He sat down with Mysterious Ways to discuss his findings. You write in your book about a profound experience you had while meditating. Can you describe it for us? As usual, I’d gone to my bedroom, taken off my glasses, sat…

Seventy-year-old machinist Gino Amicucci has lived in Yonkers, New York, for most of his life. He usually drives the same routes around town. Except for one day last September, when he opted for a new shortcut. Turning down an unfamiliar street, Gino thought of his late brother-in-law. Angelo would be missed at Gino’s upcoming fiftieth wedding anniversary party. Gino had been looking forward to catching up with him there. Maybe even showing Angelo, who was a mason and handyman, a shelf Gino was building for the backyard shed—his latest home improvement project. But a few weeks earlier, Angelo had passed away from skin cancer at age 84. Something suddenly caught Gino’s eye. A piece of plywood sitting on the curb, just about the right size for his shelf. He pulled…

“The divine beauty in each heart is the root of all time and space.”—RĀBI‘A AL-‘ADAWIYYA (718–801 C.E.) Rābi‘a al-‘Adawiyya was a revered mystic and sage born in Basra, in present-day Iraq. According to biographical texts, Rābi‘a’s father received a divine message in a dream on the night of her birth: His daughter was destined to become a great saint. As a teen, Rābi‘a was forced into slavery. Legend has it that during one of her all-night prayer rituals, her master saw a heavenly glow radiating above her head. Moved by this sign, he set her free. Afterward, Rābi‘a led an ascetic life and acted as a spiritual mentor for men and women. Her mystical tenets, including Divine Love—pure, reciprocated love between worshipper and God, without any selfish aims—went on to…