Archive for the ‘Seen on other sites’ Category

Grocery From Heaven

As seen at Purpose Driven Blog by Satu Piispa

On the 19th I wrote like this:

Speaking of “supporting” the household, that is something that God has shown me HE wants to take care of but I’m gonna tell you later about what I mean!

So I’m gonna tell you now what I meant. It was maybe… well in a three weeks time as I was coming home from the store I prayed like “Father, how am I going to feed the kids for the rest of the month? The account is used almost up to the limit and the month isn’t even in half”. (the account at the grocery store had only 4-5 euros left for the rest of the month) The very evening a friend of mine called that he’d like to stop by, just visit. I hadn’t said ANYTHING to him about my situation but when he came, he stood with a huge grocery bag behind the front door!!! Mind you that he had never done anything like that. THANK YOU GOD!!! applause

The very same thing happened when the other day when the kids were spending the weekend with their dad I said to God: “I’d like to save money so that it’s enough for the coming week and NOT to go buy any food more for myself for the weekend. But I would need e.g. bread or rolls and milk and if I’d get some ice cream that’d be an EXTRA bonus”!

Well, what happened was that in ten minutes my sister in Christ stood behind the front door with a grocery bag…. Ain’t this wonderful?

My Father sees everything and HE DOES TAKE CARE OF HIS FAMILY LIKE HE HAS PROMISED!!!!! heart

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The Choice is yours…..

True Story found at Our Devotions

This is a true story of something that happened just a few years ago at USC.

There was a professor of philosophy there who was a deeply committed atheist.
His primary goal for one required class was to spend the entire semester
attempting to prove that God couldn’t exist.
His students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable logic.
For twenty years, he had taught this class and no one had ever had the courage to go against him.

Sure, some had argued in class at times,
but no one had ever really gone against him because of his reputation.

At the end of every semester on the last day, he would say to his class of 300 students,
”If there is anyone here who still believes in Jesus, stand up!”
In twenty years, no one had ever stood up.
They knew what he was going to do next.
He would say,
”Because anyone who believes in God is a fool.
If God existed, he could stop this piece of chalk from hitting the ground and breaking.
Such a simple task to prove that He is God, and yet He can’t do it.”
And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile floor of
the classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces.
All of the students would do nothing but stop and stare.
Most of the students thought that God couldn’t exist.
Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through,
but for 20 years, they had Been too afraid to stand up.

Well, a few years ago there was a freshman who happened to enroll.
He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about his professor.
He was required to take the class for his major, and he was afraid.
But for three months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have the courage
to stand up no matter what the professor said, or what the class thought.

Nothing they said could ever shatter his faith…he hoped.
Finally, the day came.
The professor said,
”If there is anyone here who still believes in God, stand up!”
The professor and the class of 300 people looked at him, shocked,
as he stood up at the back of the classroom.

The professor shouted,
”You FOOL!!!
If God existed, he would keep this piece of chalk from breaking when it hit the ground!”
He proceeded to drop the chalk,
but as he did, it slipped out of his fingers, off his shirt cuff onto the pleat of his pants,
down his leg, and off his shoe.
As it hit the ground, it simply rolled away unbroken.

The professor’s jaw dropped as he stared at the chalk.
He looked up at the young man, and then ran out of the lecture hall.
The young man who had stood, proceeded to walk to the front of the room
and shared his faith in Jesus for the next half hour.
300 students stayed and listened as he told of God’s love for them and
of His power through Jesus.

God-incidence or co-incidence?

I found this post by Kathy Carlton Willis at I’m Living Out Loud

Have you ever had a divine appointment, and knew 100% for sure that God’s hand was on the situation? I’ve had several of those in my lifetime, and each time, I am amazed by the power of God. This week, I asked a friend to add an e-mail link to my online blog, so that readers could contact me. During the same moments she was setting it up, an old friend of mine stumbled across my blog on the internet. Not knowing how to contact me, he left a comment on the site, from David R. I read the comment and my heart pounded with excitement. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a childhood friend of mine. Confirmation came in the form of an e-mail from David Rubemeyer, within minutes of when Carmen had placed the e-mail link on the site. I’m not sure what made me want to place the link on that day. We had been toying with the idea for a month or so. And who knows why Carmen found time at that exact moment to add the link. But the end result was the reunion of two childhood friends – a brother was found!

Read the rest of her post here.

Recovery Times

Found at: by Bill A.

I came to it one Sunday morning twenty-four years ago, just like every other morning: hung-over. Sunlight streamed through the window, nudging me awake. “Ugh,” I grunted. Too sick to move, my head ached like a thumb hit by a hammer. As I tried to piece together the night before, and the day or two before that, the thought haunted me that the blackouts, which for the last few months had progressed from occasional to inevitable, were a symptom of – not alcoholism, no, never that – insanity. “That is it,” I said to myself out loud, “I’m nuts.” How else could it be explained? I never considered alcoholism. After all, I wasn’t a skid row bum. The power of that realization – that I was out of control, utterly unable to change my situation – overwhelmed me.

Soaked with sweat, I glanced from my bed through the window at the annoyingly beautiful spring day and mumbled to nothing in particular, “If there is a God, please help me”. I had absolutely no expectation that anything would come of that request. I just didn’t know what else to do. Without exaggeration, less than a minute later there was a loud knock on my door. I did what I usually do when confronted by something unpleasant: I ignored it. Too sick to move, I assumed silence would send whomever it was a message: Bill’s not here. A louder. more insistent knock soon followed. I winced. in my condition I could hear my eyelids move. Moments later another, even louder, knock. A voice said, “I know you are in there”. Then the voice started pounding on the door. I struggled to my feet and shuffled toward the voice. By the time I reached the door I knew it belonged to my landlady, Norma. As I inched open the door I could see that she was angry. “I been watching you, boy,” Norma said in a thick West Texas drawl. She stepped closer and lightly poked her finger in my chest. “I know what you’re up to, boy. You’re an alky-holic” she said with a deepening frown. “I know, I been watching you.” She narrowed her gaze as if watching a bug crawl across my face. “My son’s an alky-holic; so are you”.

My coming and going, my stumbling and slurred speech, were routine. Once reserved for weekends and after-work carousing, since I had lost my last job as a till-dipping bartender, my drinking had been constant. “My boy dont drink no more”, Norma said. “He goes to Alky-holics Anonymous”. I glanced down the hall to see if any neighbors had heard. “He goes to Alky-holics Anonymous, and he dont drink”, Norma repeated as if I hadn’t heard her. Then she looked at me as if I had told her water was wet and said, “You need to go to Alky-holics Anonymous, boy”. I began to protest with a contrived excuse about family illness. Surely she’s deluded, I thought. No way am I going to some Salvation Army soup kitchen. “You’d better go to one of them meetings, today”, she said. “Or I’m evicting you first thing come morning”. She paused. “And I want proof you went. Bring me one of them Big Books”. I wondered how big this book might be, and whether I’d need anyone to help me carry it.

After Norma had her say, she focused one of her most piercing, laser-like stares at me turned and walked away. I stood in my doorway relieved she had left, and shuddered. “Yeah, right”. I closed the door as Norma walked down the hall. By this time of day Dallas convenience stores were selling beer and wine – no hard liquor on Sunday. I knew if I had one beer there would be an eviction for sure, because my next move would be more beer. As usual, I put on my cleanest clothes, checked the phone book for the nearest AA address, and promised myself I would poke my head in the door so I could tell Norma what I saw and see about one of those Big Books she mentioned. I don’t remember much about my first AA meeting. But I clearly recall being handed a Big Book by a guy named Cecil, someone I couldn’t imagine would have anything in common with me. Me: a slick transplant from New York City; Cecil: a TV repairman from a rural Texas burg. But I couldn’t help staring at him as he spoke. It was as if he had been reading my mail. He described what happened to him, how he felt, and it was me. Cecil told my story – and except for minor changes of scenery and actors – his story was mine, and mine was Cecil’s. I’d like to tell you I’ve been sober since my first AA meeting years ago. But the fact is that I wasn’t “ready to be ready”. Yet Cecil made such an impression that I kept coming back until I eventually got it, and began to enjoy the sober life that millions of desperate alcoholics have come to know. I’ve heard it said that God works through people. And that there are no coincidences, only “God-incidences”. I believe that. In fact, I suspect God just might have a bit of a west Texas drawl.


Author: Richard Burley

I had a most amazing encounter yesterday. I went to go get a hair cut… much overdo! I struck up a conversation with the Stylist (named Glenda) that was cutting my hair. She asked me about the book that was reading (i.e. The Emerging Churches by Gibbs and Bolger). This lead to her telling me all about the AG church that she goes to. She was very excited about it. I was moved by their missional heart and the fact that they have special services for the incoming numbers of immigrants from Nigeria, India, Somalia and a few others that I dont recall all in those languages! Very impressive. She told me how her brother is the Pastor.

I told her about Deb and my experience in Vineyard and how I”ll always be grateful for what I learned there. She said that she has a relative who is the Pastor of the Vineyard in King Wood Texas. Whoah! Hold the presses. A Vineyard in King Wood. There has got to only one Vineyard in Kingwood… and I happen to know the Pastor as well!! I started laughing and asked her “Is it Bob Towell?”. She said it was and we were both laughing. I told her that Bob and Joyce were and remain to be two of our favorite people in Church leadership and they were our Pastors in Austin! She said that her Brother the Pastor is married to Joyces sister. Amazing!

Glenda and I both agreed that this had to be a God’-incidence. Though I dont know yet what it might mean or lead to. I haven”t seen Bob in over 4 years. I sure would like to see he and Joyce again. And who knows… with this connection I might. ‘Course, now that I’m back in Texas… I could just drive down to Kingwood one of these days and visit.

Where might this lead??? Who knows. But God is good… and He seems to really love reunions. I am really hoping to see them again.

You Mean the World to Someone!

Author: Alissa

This is a story about an actual experience of mine. I have changed the names to protect people’s privacy, but the story is true. It was more than a coincidence – it was a God-incidence.

I was up late one night while in the hospital, and I was talking to Megan, one of the staff, about suicide. I was feeling very suicidal at the time. Anyway, Megan was telling me she had a half-brother who killed himself, and it had affected her deeply. She then proceeded to tell me a philosophy of hers: She believed that each person’s life was deeply important to someone. She used a chair as an analogy: “See that chair over there?” Megan said. “Well, that chair make not make a difference to you or me, neither of us may care about it, but I believe that it DOES make a difference to someone. Someone would miss that chair if it were gone.” I quickly dismissed this analogy as ridiculous, and went off to bed.

The next day, management came upstairs with new chairs. As they were removing the old chairs, Lindsey pointed to the EXACT SAME CHAIR and cried out, “NO, you can’t take that chair, that’s Freddy!!” Although she was just being silly, Lindsey’s statement really struck me. It was as if God was telling me, “See, the chair DID matter to someone. And so do you.” Remember, “you may not mean something to the world, but you mean the world to someone!”

From the Breast Cancer Action Nova Scotia

God-incidence Posted By: drdawg

There are co-incidences and God-incidences. Our TV show was broadcast last week so now it’s kaput. But in our own hometown, it didn’t come on. Rorie and I told everyone we knew to tune in, and at 9:00am last Thursday another show came on. Needless to say, we were disappointed and somewhat embarrassed since we had asked so many people to watch. Called the local cable station and they said “Oh yeah, we got the tape but decided to put it on NEXT week.” Amazing. Anyway, Rorie was in a room this morning with a lady who was a BC patient and she had 3 drains and was scared and had lots of questions and after talking with Rorie she said “You know, you ought to be on TV.” And Rorie looked at the clock and it was 9:00am and Poof! she hit the remote and there she was on TV!. A God-incidence. We are still laughing. If the show just touched this one lady it was worth it. Sometimes things just work out. DD

Another Story

The web is full of God-incidence stories. I’ve just come across this one….

Author: Shelley Marshall

A call from a fan, Cindy, came in today from West Virginia. What a doll she is. The excitement in her voice made me really appreciate the gift God has given me to write the books people like Cindy read. This beautiful young woman invited me to help their young people’s group celebrate their third anniversary. Because the group was named after my second book, Young, Sober, & Free, Cindy thought she had ask if I could attend. This is the trippy part. It just so happens that I am scheduled to be in West Virginia, not 50 miles from her group, around the date of the group’s anniversary! If I just move my flight up by a few days I can make it. Now, what are the odds of my schedule just happening to coincide with their anniversary? Pretty good I say, when one believes in God-incidences.

What about you? What God-incidences have happened to you lately? Some say that “coincidence” – is the word God uses when He wants to be anonymous. But He cannot fool me! I see my Higher Power behind all the serendipitous events of my life. Where do you see you see God in your life? Share with us, I love the God-incidence stories.

What Do Angels Look Like?

Author: Janet Seever

A gray blanket of haze hung over Manila. Although it was only 6:30 a.m., the day would be another hot, humid one my blouse was already sticking to me. Dreading the trip ahead, I wished I could make the nightmare of the past few days vanish by closing my eyes.

Weaving through traffic, the Filipino driver was taking my co-worker, Helena and me to the bus station. Manila traffic was as unnerving now as it had been when our family had arrived in the Philippines five months earlier to do mission work.

I settled back against the seat, my mind whirling with recent events. I hadn’t slept well for several nights and my body was running on adrenaline.

My husband, Dennis, had spent several days in the modern Manila Heart Hospital, undergoing tests for shortness of breath and chest pains. Doctors discovered that his previous damage from rheumatic fever twenty years earlier had now doubled.

The cardiologist’s words ran through my mind like a continuous tape loop: Atrial fibrillation. Sixty percent leakage past the mitral valve. Congestive heart failure. Fluid in the lungs. A dangerously enlarged heart. The cardiologist told Dennis he needed surgery within a month, or he would face certain death. Even now she didn’t know if the surgery would be successful. She offered no promises, no guarantees.

Today’s bus trip would take me back to the little barrio (community) of Lantap, 180 miles north of Manila where we had been learning Ilocano, one ofthe national languages, for the past five weeks. I needed to pack up all ofthe belongings we had left behind when we hurriedly c ame to Manila forDennis’s tests.

My thoughts drifted to Dennis, my husband of ten years, and our two children who were staying in the mission guest house in Manila while I was making my three-day trip. Dennis would be spending his time resting while other people watched Tim, six, and Rachel, three.

Lord, be with them today; keep Dennis safe.

Over the past few days I had looked at dozens of Bible verses on peace and comfort, but God’s peace still eluded me. My one question was: would I be a widow at thirty-nine?

“Lord, I know You want me to trust You, but I’m finding it hard. I’m so afraid. Don’t let Dennis die.

“I recognize that corner,” said Helena, jolting me back to the present. “The bus station will be on our right in about three blocks.” She would be traveling back on the same bus with me.

True to Helena’s words, our driver soon pulled into the bus yard. As we got our suitcases out of the trunk, I turned to Helena. “I’m glad you’ll be on the bus with me.”

“It’s not really a difficult trip once you’ve made it as many times as I have,” said Helena. “The Banaue bus is the one we want.” She indicated one in a long line of buses.

Since we were early, we had our choice of seats and found two toward the back.

The 180-mile trip ahead of us would take about eight hours with many stops along the way. The road through the mountains of Luzon had numerous hairpin turns. All scenery along the way looked as if it could be made into picture postcards, but today I wasn’t interested in sight seeing.

I closed my eyes, feeling exhausted. I was trying so hard to trust God, but the anxious thoughts kept crowding my mind. “Lord, show me that You are withme in a tangible way. Help me trust You.”

Other passengers were now beginning to fill the bus. I looked up just as two young men entered. One was carrying a guitar and both had a lapel pins. As they came closer, I could see one pin read “Trust God” and the other was across within a fish. Were they Christians?

Finding seats directly in front of us, the two men turned around to greet us They knew English well.

“Are the two of you with SIL?” asked one of the men. “Yes, how did you know?” I asked, shocked that we could be identified in a city of 20 million people.

How had they even heard of SIL, the Bible translation organization with which Helena and I were working?

“You don’t look like tourists because you don’t have cameras,” was the response. “You’re not dressed like tourists.”

One of the men, a Filipino of Chinese descent, explained he was Pastor Lim from a small church about forty miles beyond where we were going. He had met someone from SIL on a previous bus trip.

Pastor Lim’s traveling companion introduced himself as Rogel. He worked witha mission in Banaue.

Helena settled back in her seat with a magazine, while I continued my conversation with Pastor Lim. He said he was the first in his Buddhist family to become a Christian. The rest of his family had rejected him and his choice of occupation.

In answer to his question about my family, I told him my husband and two children were staying in a mission guest house in Manila.

“Why are you traveling alone?” he asked. “My husband has a serious heart condition. I need to go back and pack up our things.” Conversation with this gentle man came easily.

“God wants me to trust Him, but I’m afraid my husband might die,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes with a tissue.

“God loves you very much and is watching over your family,” Pastor Lim replied with certainty.

“Your husband will be all right.” For the next hour Pastor Lim turned around in his seat and lovingly shared Scripture and words of comfort with me. Then he prayed with me.

God’s peace, which had been eluding me, flooded over me. I felt God’s presence in this encounter with a stranger in a way I never had before.

Thanks, Lord, for showing me you care for me. I trust You. As I thought about this incident shortly afterward, questions rushed to my mind. Just who were these two men? How did they know who we were?

A Bible verse came to mind. “Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2 NIV). What do angels look like?

When I reached the bamboo house in Lantap, I repacked everything we owned into a crate. Then I returned to Manila by bus three days later.

Because Dennis might die, we returned to the U. S. for the surgery. There we were surrounded by our families.

Heart damage in the U.S. was rated 1 to 4, with 4 being the most serious.D octors ranked Dennis as 4 plus. However, true to Pastor Lim’s prediction, Dennis came through the surgery well. The mechanical heart valve is still working sixteen years later with no further problem.

Over the passing years, I’ve often thought about the incident on the bus.The strangers seemed as human as I am, but who understands God’s ways? Of one thing I am certain it was a God-arranged encounter. My two “angels” came with God’s message of love and comfort when I desperately needed it.