Innehållsförteckning för Aug/Sept 2022 från Mysterious Ways

Something happened recently that reminded me of the wonder of heavenly timing and the power of kindness—a gift that keeps on giving. A few weeks ago, Matt was anticipating a tough day at work. He’d even told me so before leaving for the day. When he called me from the office sounding cheerful, I was a bit surprised. “You won’t believe what happened!” he said. The day had started as expected: a long commute, a wait in line for morning coffee, an endless to-do list. By lunchtime, he was sorely in need of a break. He got up from his desk for a walk to collect himself and recharge. Lost in thought, he passed a park full of preschoolers at recess. A little boy ran up to him. “Excuse me,…

I drove north on California’s Pacific Coast Highway after attending a work conference in Santa Cruz. It was roughly three hours away from where I lived in Pismo Beach, and I’d decided to make the most of the trip by hitting a new beach to surf. I was an avid surfer, and I was excited to try out a different spot. It was a miserably gray day with intermittent rain showers, but the waves looked fun. I pulled into the parking lot to search the stretch of cliff-lined coast. My truck was the only vehicle. The beach was empty. Surfboard under my arm, I headed down a flight of stairs to the beach. With the sand between my toes. I watched the water for a moment, taking in the waves.…

The sun was just beginning to set as I drove along the highway. I had only about 50 miles left to go before I arrived at my friend Eleanor’s beach house in Panama City, Florida. This was my first vacation since my divorce. It was exactly what I need-ed. The problem was that I lived over 800 miles away in Texas. Money was tight, and driving was cheaper than a plane ticket, so I chose to drive my-self there. I’d never taken that long of a road trip alone before, and I’d been somewhat anxious about the 12-hour drive. But things had gone smoothly so far, with long stretches of high-way that I’d stay on for hours before merging. It was pretty straight-forward, up until the last leg of the…

When my 37-year-old daughter, Heather, was diag-nosed with breast cancer and started undergoing treatment, I was devastated for her. I wanted to take her pain away. I felt helpless. Then, one night, I had a dream. In it, I was struggling to climb up a rocky, barren mountain. The boulders were sharp and jagged and dug into my hands, but I knew I had to reach the summit. I climbed until I knew I could go no farther. Then I saw him. A towering figure dressed in gray. He was cradling a woman in his arms. She looked weak but peaceful. It was Heather! The man walked past me toward the summit, toward heaven. As he passed, his eyes met mine. No words were spoken, but I knew her soul…

In 2014, 32-year-old Justin Pounders of St. Petersburg, Florida, joined Match.com and was paired with a woman named Amy Giberson. The two hit it off. They began texting one another and calling each other every night, and they soon planned a first date. When they met and hugged, Amy said, “It was like I had known him my whole life.” The couple fell in love and started planning a future together. After nearly a year of dating, Justin casually mentioned that the reason Amy’s profile had initially caught his attention was because he’d had a crush on a girl named Amy when he was in preschool. When they realized they’d both attended Sunshine Preschool in St. Petersburg, they began connecting the dots. Not long after, Justin’s mom found a photo…

Diane Stark I selected Spider-Man: Far from Home from the touchscreen on the DVD rental kiosk. “Out of stock,” it said. I sighed. My 10-year-old, Nathan, would be disappointed. He was having a sleepover, and the boys had wanted to watch Spider-Man. I didn’t have time to check any-where else, so I chose a movie I thought they’d like. When I got home, Nathan excitedly grabbed the DVD. “Nate, I’m sorry, but they didn’t have—” I started to say. But when he popped open the DVD case, the disc inside was Spider-Man: Far from Home! Our family used that kiosk frequently. We’d never gotten the wrong DVD before. “Thanks, Mom!” Nathan said. “You’re the best.” The ultimate Superhero had ensured that Nathan’s sleepover stayed on track! Judy Regan I stepped…

Every family has a favorite story. The one they tell over and over. In my family, the story begins in Springfield, Ohio, where Paw-Paw lived in the 1940s. Growing up, spending sum-mers with my grandparents, I never tired of hearing it. I can still see myself sitting out on the porch, listening to Paw-Paw intently, though I already knew every word by heart. Paw-Paw was a tough man. Men of color weren’t given a lot of opportunities back then, but he’d started several successful businesses, including a company that provided windows for commercial buildings and a popular neigh-borhood grocery. He even owned real estate. He wasn’t the type of man to make up a story. “The doctors diagnosed me with esophageal cancer,” Paw-Paw explained again one summer night in his low,…

Off the shores of Northumberland County, England, is a three-mile-long sandbar often hidden beneath the waves known as Pilgrim’s Way. Only passable at low tide for a few hours, twice a day, the sandbar has been used to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne for some 1,300 years. The island houses a monastery founded by Irish monk Saint Aidan in 635 A.D. Until a causeway was built for cars and pedestrians in 1954, Pilgrim’s Way was the only way to reach this spiritual destination on foot. Marked with poles to guide travelers through the sand and mud, this sa-cred walking path is still traversed today by those seeking serenity and reflection. Of course, visitors must carefully plan their crossings to coincide with the tides in order to…

Chris Miracle, a 26-year-old tow truck driver from Baker County, Florida, was Chris driving past Manntown Congregational Holiness Church when he noticed flashing lights in the woods behind it. At first Miracle did not stop. He’d been called to the area on a job for his family’s business, Miracle Towing and Recovery. But something told him to turn around and return to the spot. Miracle left his truck and walked into the woods toward the lights. There he found a car with its front stuck into a creek bank. Inside was a 77-year-old woman. She had no cell phone and couldn’t open her door. With no other options, she’d clicked on her hazards, turned on gospel music and prayed for help. That help was Miracle, who was also a volunteer…

I was working at a construction site, riding with the road-grader operator. It took me back to a spe-cific childhood memory of my dad driving the tractor on the Oklahoma farm I grew up on. I was 10 years old. With a mason jar of iced tea jiggling in my hands, I walked toward Daddy, who was plowing in the pasture. He stopped the tractor and gave me a hand up. Then he drank. “I have to go now, sissy,” he said and helped me down. “But I want to go with you,” I said. Daddy winked. “Not this round. But I’ll see you again.” Dad-dy rode off. He wouldn’t be home till supper. It seemed like forever, but when I heard Dad’s tractor approaching that night, I was overjoyed.…

‘The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells everything that he has, and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold everything that he had and bought it.’ —Matthew 13:44–46 Heaven is a paradise, a city, a country…and so much more that we can’t begin to wrap our finite minds around it. But one thing I do know: Jesus is expecting me, and he’s prepared a place for me.—Greg Laurie PASTOR AND AUTHOR We may speak about a place where there are notears, no death, no fear, no night; but those…

After work on Friday, I rushed to the Detroit airport to catch my flight to Fort Lauderdale for my best friend Carmen’s mother’s funeral—only to discover that it had been canceled. The next one out was too late to get me there in time. Devastated, I called Carmen to let her know I wouldn’t be able to make it. She was understanding. Still, I felt terrible that I couldn’t be there. Carmen and I had been friends for more than 50 years, and I was also close with her mom, whom I called Mrs. Rodriguez. I spent that weekend praying for Carmen and her family, reflecting on the good times we’d all shared. I’d last seen Carmen and Mrs. Rodriguez during my last visit to my hometown, just eight months…

“We are made of love, and because of love, and for love, and to Love we must return, for [God] awaits us with longing.”—LILIAN STAVELEY Lilian Staveley (1878–1928), a Christian writer and mystic, anonymously published three books about the ordinary soul’s extraordinary love for God. Born to an affluent British family, Lilian preferred meditating alone in nature. “In some mysterious manner,” she recalls in her autobiography, The Prodigal Returns, “I inhaled the very essence of the Beautiful.” After struggling with her faith, she rediscovered it after a freak accident—a lightning strike. During a painful recovery, she realized that only God’s love could sustain her. Later she had a vision: “Suddenly, with the most intense vividness, [Jesus] presented himself before my consciousness so that I inwardly perceived him,” she wrote. Using a…

“We’re starting a fundraising campaign to help with the cost of the new Family Life Center. And to make some renovations to the church,” my pastor announced after his Sunday sermon. “Please consider donating—no amount is too small. Anything would be a help.” I didn’t have a lot of extra cash to burn, but I was dropping more than $30 a week on cigarettes. If I quit smoking, I could donate that money. After church ended, I left with that thought still on my mind. At that point, I’d been a smoker for most of my life. I had picked up the habit when I was 15 years old. I was 55. I’d tried to quit many times. But inevitably, a few hours after my “last” cigarette, I’d start itching for…

My new dog, Honey, trotted after me as I walked to my Toyota 4Runner that fall morning. I’d had her only a couple of weeks, but we’d become nearly inseparable. I’d gone through heart surgery a few months back. I figured taking care of a dog would keep me active. Besides, my wife’s job took her out of town a lot, and I could use the company. So I went to the local animal-rescue center. The little cocker spaniel quivering in a cage caught my eye right away. I leaned over to get a closer look. She had frightened eyes. I could tell she longed to be picked up and hugged. I went to talk to the shelter worker. “She just came in,” the woman told me. “Her name is…