Innholdsfortegnelse for Apr/May 2022 i Mysterious Ways

Easter brings with it a reminder of the world’s most profound miracle and of God’s promise of heaven. It’s the perfect time of year for me to revisit instances that have brought me a glimpse of heaven’s wonder. Like one particular experience I had with one of my closest friends. Six years ago, she lost her father in a sudden and un expected way. On one of my visits to see her after his passing, something incredible happened. It was around the same time I’d started working at Mysterious WaysMysterious Ways maga-zine. The first morning I was there, we woke up and grabbed mugs of coffee to sip on the patio, bundled in warm clothes and blankets. We started talking about her dad. I told her some of the stories…

“Mike, we found a match,” my doctor said over the phone. “You’re getting a new set of lungs. I’ll see you in surgery early tomorrow morning.” I stared at my wife, Patti, in shock. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. This was the call we’d been praying for. I hung up the phone, and Patti swept me into a hug. Five years before, I’d been diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fi-brosis (IPF), a disease that causes scar tissue to form in the lungs, making it hard to breathe. There is no cure and, in some cases, like mine, no known cause. Before my diagnosis, I thought I was healthy. I was 54 years old, the pastor of our church in Louisville, Kentucky. I had never smoked a day in…

“Love is a portion of the soul itself, and it is of the same nature as the celestial breathing of the atmosphere of paradise.”—Victor Hugo “Love is too large, too deep ever to be truly understood or measured or limited within the framework of words.”—M. Scott Peck, AUTHOR OF THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED “Love is a fruit in season at all times and within the reach of every hand.”—Mother Teresa “Pure love is a willingness to give without a thought of receiving anything in return.”—Peace Pilgrim “Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.”—1 John 4:8 “Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it.”—Rabindranath Tagore, POET “Love is the only force that allows us to hold one another close beyond the…

I reached into the sink, filled with hot, soapy water, and grabbed a mixing bowl. Started scrubbing it furiously. The encrusted dough wouldn’t come loose. I’d meant to wash the bowl—or at least soak it—early that morning when I’d started baking the 30 loaves of bread I made here six days a week, at my bakery just off the Vassar College campus in Poughkeepsie, New York. But then I’d had to get going on the cookies. Clean the display glass. Put down the chairs. Set everything out. Make the coffee. And that was all before 7:00 A.M. Clean as I go? I barely had time to take a breath. I’d been on my feet 14 hours straight, since five o’clock that morning. This was the career I’d always dreamed of.…

B.J. Taylor I sat at my desk at home, feeling nervous. I In 15 minutes, I was going to call in for my first live radio interview to promote my book. I wished Mom could be there to reassure me. Before she passed, my mom was my number-one supporter. She’d always brag about my writing to her friends. It had been years since she died, but I especially missed her during moments like these. What if I stumbled through my words? Or blanked out on a question? I whispered a prayer: “Help me.” Then the phone rang. I took a deep breath and picked it up. “Hello?” No one answered. There was no one there. I looked at the handset. The caller ID read: “Virginia.” That was my mom’s name.…

“We’re all finished,” said the doctor. “But you’ll have to lie there another 20 minutes or so before you can go.” I felt my body relax. The hard part was over, now I just had to wait. I was used to waiting. After all, infertility itself was a waiting game. Beside me sat my husband, Eli. He’d been there throughout the procedure, his comforting presence giving me strength. Once the doctor had left the room, Eli took my hand. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Okay,” I said. “It didn’t hurt at all.” I’d read as much when I did my own research on IUI—intrauterine insemination—in the weeks since the doctor had suggested the procedure. After several years of trying for a baby with no results, Eli and I made…

Driving to work one morning, I pulled into the middle lane of traffiffic on the three-lane road behind a white van. I had the music off and was driving in silence, when suddenly I heard a voice. “Move to the outside lane.” It was quiet but powerful. The voice spoke directly to my soul, and it was distinctly separate from my inner voice. “Do it now,” the voice said urgently. Even though it went against my normal commuting habits, I knew I had to listen. I checked for cars, then merged into the right-hand lane. Clang! As soon as my wheels crossed over the dotted line, a large metal ladder I hadn’t noticed before fell off the top of the white van and slammed into the road—right where I had…

Miracles come to us in every shape, size and even color. God’s blessings flow across a spectrum, from everyday reassurances of his presence to out-of-this-world experiences; each divine mystery as vibrant as the colors of the rainbow. These stories sent to us by readers like you show us why God says in Genesis 9:13, “I have set my rainbow in the cloud, and it will be the sign of a covenant between me and the earth.” Sarah Shrauger SANDWICH, MASSACHUSETTS Every year for Christmas, my mom would get ornaments for my siblings and me. Usually, they commemorated some event from the past year—a graduation, a job promotion, a marriage. When I opened my box on Christmas Day 2012, my face fell. Mom had given me my baby ornament. The little…

Academy Award–winning actor Jimmy Stewart returned home from a three-year tour with the Air Force during World War II feeling lost. His time serving in the military had changed him, and his movie contract with MGM had expired. What if Hollywood no longer had a place for him? Was his acting career over? Then Stewart landed the lead role of George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. His character, a suicidal man, is sent an angel to show him what the world would be like without him. In one scene, George was at the lowest point of his life and didn’t know where else to turn. He prays, “I’m at the end of my rope. Show me the way, God….” The scripted lines stirred up real emotions. “As I said…

The envelope immediately caught my attention as I opened the day’s mail. The stamp revealed it had been sent from a state prison. I’d been a pastor here at the Church of the Master for 22 years. Not many letters came to me from prisoners. Curious, I opened it. A few postage stamps spilled out onto my desk. I pulled out the letter, handwritten on notebook paper. “I came to your church 14 years ago, asking for food and money,” it began. “I told the preacher my house had burned down, but that was a lie.” I knew exactly who this was. How dare he write me after all these years! Had his conscience finally gotten the better of him? Or was he trying to pull some other con? He…

I look forward to Holy Week with a mixture of dread and wonder. The dread because I know that as I listen to the biblical account read in church, I’ll have to relive the horrors of the crucifixion. The wonder because there are these miraculous signs that point to Jesus’ divinity and how he knew all along how things would turn out. ON PALM SUNDAY in our church, the gospel account is reenacted by members of the congregation. You can be there in your pew and suddenly discover that the friend sitting next to you is playing the role of Peter or Mary Magdalene or even Jesus. The familiar story comes alive. Before entering Jerusalem, Jesus sends two of his disciples into the village of Bethany, where he has told…

I turned on to Andulusian Drive as I was finishing up my daily walk through my neighborhood, as I usually did. Suddenly a large dog hopped the fence of a nearby yard and bolted straight toward me. It stopped in front of me only a few yards away and snarled. What in the world! I thought, fear gripping me. I cautiously took a step to the side to go around. The dog growled. I couldn’t move. I looked around desperately for anyone who could help, but the street was deserted. Please, God, I thought. I need help! Just then, a white van turned onto the street. I was nervous about getting into a car with strangers, but at this point I had little choice. I waved my arms frantically to…

When my beloved dog Shadow passed, I was heartbroken. The night a fter he died, I had a peculiar dream. In it, 14-year-old Shadow was young again, his black fur shiny and tongue lolling. He was in a wide-open, grassy field dotted with yellow flowers and flooded with light. He was chasing after Max, my dog who had passed when Shadow was still a puppy. Then, a third dog appeared. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew the breed—German shorthaired pointer. His brown ears were floppy, his coat an intricate patchwork of brown and white. I watched the three dogs play happily. The dream stuck with me. It was so comforting and seemed so real. But who was that third dog? A few days later, I met up with my…

It was the summer of 1994, and my husband, Mick, and I were being shown around the French convent of Saint-Georges-des-Gardes by Sister Jean de la Croix. Mick was a photographer specializing in garden and architectural photography, and he was working on a new book, Monastic Gardens. This convent in western France was one of many we’d visited in the past weeks, so Mick could take photos of the grounds. I was admiring Saint-Georgesdes-Gardes’ stark and unassuming beauty—the bare walls, the simple arrangements of fresh wildflowers on a table in the hallway, the polished, dark gray stone floors—when Sister Jean pulled me aside. “Your husband tells me you’re an artist from New York,” she said, a glimmer in her eye. “Yes,” I said. “I’m a painter.” Even as I said…

“Here, boy!” I called out again. I walked down the cement steps behind the Army barracks and listened, hoping to hear an answering meow or see a flash of black and white streaking toward me. But there was still no sign of the cat. Now I was starting to panic. While I had yet to name him, I had been feeding him for months. Seeing him had become the highlight of my day. I could clearly remember when we first met. Sitting on these same cold cement steps that night, I’d been staring out into the darkness. Rain soaked through my pants, but I didn’t care. The only light came from the glow of my cigarette—my last. Back in my room, there was a knife on the bedside table and…

In downtown Dallas, Texas, 15 feet below Thanks-Giving Square is a sanctuary away from the busy city. The Chapel of Thanksgiving opened in 1977 to offer people a serene place to pray, meditate and reflect. The spire stretches from the earth in a white concrete spiral extending 90 feet above street level, suggesti ng the “infinite upward reach of the human spirit,” according to a visitor’s guide brochure. Plain from the outside, a breathtaking surprise awaits visitors within: an upward-spiraling, stained-glass masterpiece known as the Glory Window. The colorful display is one of the largest horizontally mounted stained-glass windows in the world, inspiring awe and gratitude in all who visit this urban spiritual oasis.…

“It is part of God’s plan for us that Christ shall come to us in everyone; it is in their particular role that we must come to know him.” —CARYLL HOUSLANDER British writer and mystic Caryll Houslander (1901–1954) had three powerful visions during her life, each compelling her to see Christ in every person, even the most unexpected individuals. One vision happened on a crowded subway car. She said of the passengers, “He was in them, and because they were here, the whole world was here too….” These visions inspired her to devote her life to charitable causes; they also shaped her writings, which brought spiritual comfort to people during the Great Depression and World War II. Though Houslander was not your average mystic—she smoked, had a sharp tongue and was…