THE YELLOW CAB

On this particular day in January 2000, my husband and I had been having a difference of opinion off and on over silly stuff for a couple of days. So, when I needed to go back to a department store to exchange a pair of shoes, he got even more upset. When we arrived at the department store, he asked me a question as I was getting out of the truck. I couldn't hear him because of the high volume of traffic leaving the parking lot. He didn't repeat the question, so I didn't think anymore about it and continued on my way. Just as I stepped inside the store, my angel's voice (female) whispered in my right ear and spoke my husband's name, and told me "he had left." I turned around to look to see whether he was parking the truck; he was not. There were now only a few scattered cars in the lot. For some reason, I was not concerned that he had seemingly left. Not hearing anything more from my angel, I went about taking care of my business, exchanging my shoes.

Upon leaving the department store, I looked for my husband to see if he had returned; he had not. I waited for fifteen minutes, then I just started walking in the direction of my home. The weather had gotten worse It was terrible outside--snow mixed with freezing rain made walking treacherous. I made it over a block on the dimly-lit street before slipping on some ice and falling hard to the pavement. I was covered from head to toe in a wet, freezing mess and on top of that I had hurt my right ankle. I looked around to see if I could get some help in getting up, but there wasn't a single person on the street walking or driving. After about ten minutes of struggling, I managed to get up on my feet, picked up my purse and shoe bag and continued gingerly down the block.

I started to pray. It was dark, and I felt unsafe and talking to God has always had a calming effect on me. I was walking on the street where there was a long stretch of barren, unlit property. Just as I got a little less than halfway down the block, out of the darkness walking across this empty lot, were six (I assumed) young teenage boys all were wearing dark clothing with hoodies. The angle at which they were crossing the property - and the pace at which they were walking - would put them less then ten feet in front of me, and that's exactly what happened. I tried to make myself as small as possible so as not to be noticed. For whatever reason they didn't notice me, and once they passed in front of me, they never turned around to look behind them. After a few minutes, I started to feel very comfortable walking behind them. (I really did.) I could have literally ran up eight feet and touched them, they were just that close. As we walked, it was as if they were escorting me down the unlit street It was an additional two long blocks of semi-darkness before they crossed the street, just before we came to a brightly-lit intersection, and disappeared into the night.

When I told this story to an elderly friend of mine, she thought the young men were God's angels, sent to walk with me in the darkness until I reached the light. I think she was right--because of what happened next...

By the time I reached the intersection, it was void of any kind of traffic--walking or driving. Everything was either closed or looked deserted. I looked around for a public telephone, having found three, but they were all out of order. So I continued walking, stopping occasionally to look for a bus, I didn't see one. (I didn't have enough money left for a cab, and I wasn't sure my husband was at home to pay for one). I was still a long way from home. My clothes were soaked from a combination of falling down and the rain. My hands were freezing, and my right ankle throbbed with pain. (I was in trouble.) I started to pray again, while I was walking closing my eyes (this time) for only a few seconds talking to God (my constant companion) and asking for His help.

No sooner had I said my prayer and opened my eyes, the brightest color of yellow I have ever seen filled my eyesight. I was within a finger's length (and I mean that literally) of a huge 1940's-style yellow cab with white mist emanating from all over it. (There had been no cab anywhere on the streets around me when I closed my eyes for a couple seconds to Pray.) Now suddenly there was one right in front of me. Praise God!

It was just sitting there directly across my path, if I had taken another step I would have been in the cab. I was just standing there stunned. The driver said 'get in', and I managed to blurt out, 'Where did you come from?' He just smiled. (To this day I can't give a description of the cab driver, and I was looking directly at him. What I will say is that he was a most kind and extremely friendly, smiling individual.) Once again, I wasn't afraid. A calmness had come over me. So, I decided to take a seat in the cab, if for no other reason than to rest my aching body for a few minutes. While sitting, I decided to tell the cab driver I didn't have the total fare to get home. But before I could say anything, he turned around and said, "I am here to take you home. There will be no charge." I suddenly felt (in spirit) incredibly safe. I was just about to give him my address, when he quickly turned the cab around and started heading in the direction of my house, as if he knew where I lived. I blurted out my address anyway, sat back and enjoyed the unexpected ride home. While riding there was conversation between the cab driver and myself, but I can't remember what we talked about.

When he pulled up in front of my home my husband's truck was in the driveway, so I told the cab driver I could pay him the fare. He smiled and shook his head, 'no' and said, "You are safely home." I thanked him for his kindness, stepped up on my porch, turned to wave him on, but the driver and his 1940's-style yellow cab had vanished.

On that night, there was a miscommunication between my husband and myself that could have easily turned out badly for me. I praised a most loving God for his kindness in watching over me in my hours of distress, and for providing me with a special cab ride home. Praise God!

Copyright 2007-2009

A MESSAGE FROM GOD (A MIRACLE?) PART 4

On the following Wednesday afternoon about 3:30 pm, I was visiting my sister I stayed for about an hour, then called a cab. A few moments later, my brother staggered through the front door. His clothes were dirty and soaked from perspiration. Breathing very heavily, he immediately asked for a glass of water. While my sister hurried to get it. I approached him. I was only standing about four feet away when I called out his name. He didn't answer. I wanted to know how he was feeling and if I could help him in any way. So I called his name again. This time, I was looking into his eyes- standing almost in front of him- he looked right through me, as if I wasn't there. I was for some reason physically invisible to him. As my sister gave him the glass of water, he said, "I just helped a man push his stalled car over ten blocks to his house in all this heat." It was over 100 degrees that day. As I was listening, I heard a horn blow. It was my cab. I said a quick 'good-bye', and as I was leaving, I glanced back at my brother- realizing that he not only couldn't see me, but he also couldn't hear my voice.

And that was the last time I saw my brother alive. As this was happening, I still had no memory of having talked to him on the telephone or of any of the miraculous events that had transpired on the previous Sunday. When I arrived home everything was normal, until a little after 7 pm that night. I had received a frantic telephone call from my sister, informing me that our brother had suffered a seizure and then a massive heart attack. He died while en route to the hospital. He was forty-five years old. After the autopsy, the medical examiner stated to a family member, "Your brother had a smile on his face when he died." John 5:24 reads, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that hearth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life."

When I was getting dressed to meet with family to make funeral arrangements, the memory of the appearance of Our Lord Jesus Christ to my little girl and the conversation I had with my brother on the telephone, returned in vivid detail. And I knew in spirit it was God, letting me know that it was time to tell my family about the miraculous gift given to my brother. I did so during our family meeting. In reflection, God had given my brother yet another most precious gift three (3) days to put his affairs in order and say his 'good-byes'.

And that's exactly what he did. His message was a simple one as he went around to family, friends and neighbors, telling each one that he loved them and to love one another. A few thought it was the wine talking; others thought he was unusually happy and so animated. Still, most simply appreciated the kindness of a caring thought. But no one thought it would be the last time they would see him alive.

Later, I sat down at the dining room table with another sister to start writing his obituary. Neither of us could find the words to describe our brother's life. His life was not ordinary by any stretch of the imagination; it was truly blessed by God. He used to say, "he had more lives then a cat." He'd say this because something or someone (and not always a total stranger), was always trying to take his life. But, they failed because God would move him out of harms way. For example, he was blessed when the would-be object of his demise, a loaded hand gun, was place to his head in a robbery attempt. The gunman pulled the trigger several times, but the gun kept misfiring, leaving my brother badly shaken, but uninjured. Another blessing came when he was serving in the Navy. Aboard ship working below deck, he was permitted to go up on deck for a smoke. As soon as he lit his cigarette, there was an explosion below deck in the part of the ship where he would have been on duty- had the Lord not moved him to a safe area. He lost several close friends in that horrible accident.

There are many more moments of peril where his life was in danger and he was miraculously spared, but in truth there are too many to write about in this part of his story. What I would like to do is tell you about the lives my brother saved (that I know about).

Once whilst sleeping he heard a scream come from the dining room. Some friends were visiting my sister and they brought with them a popular board game (the name of which I won't mention- only that it involved being able to speak to unknown and often evil spirits). As the game progressed, the board literally became more and more agitated by a young girl's questions, until suddenly evil spirits summoned by her careless antics (invisible to everyone but my brother) materialized around the game board and entered into the girl's body, knocking her back in the chair onto the floor. My brother rushed over to her, and held her body. He could see (in spirit) multiple evil spirits literally pulling her spirit through a dark window. He said that he never stopped praying to God during this struggle of life- and-death for the young girl. The Lord answered his prayers by sending angels, who filled the dining room with their prayers until it became so hot with the Lord's Glory that whatever evil had hold of the girl was destroyed and she was saved. The young girl could not remember what had happen to her.

My brother, with the Lord's blessings, also: saved the lives of two drug addicts who had overdosed; delivered twin baby boys in an elevator that was stuck between floors in a hospital. He saved many lives by interceding in violent arguments, by calming the combatants with a kind voice and prayers. He was of tremendous help to the elderly and the sick always offering love and compassion.

My brother put his life- and the many gifts God blessed him- with- on the line for people he knew and strangers as well, all the time. Praise God! That's why my sister and I were struggling not only with what to write, but how much to write. Everything in my brother's life (and that includes the things he did for people that we have no knowledge of) had a direct bearing on why Our Lord Jesus Christ, appeared to my little girl with a message from a most merciful God to her uncle. On the side of the dining room table, where my sister and I sat, laid my late mother's beatiful Holy Bible. (It was the bible my brother had bought for her while stationed in Italy).With so many questions to answer, I was suddenly spiritually moved to pull the Bible over to me. As I did so, my sister asked what I was going to look up. I told her that I didn't know.

Just, as I spoke, my right hand moved in spirit to open the Bible. I then started searching through the pages, slowly at first then more rapidly. This was the first time my right hand had moved in spirit. It continues to do so ever so often to this day. (Please Check out my other post about the book of 'Habakkuk').

My right hand came to rest on, Matthew 5: 3-12. Recognizing the scripture, I smiled and whispered, "Thank you Lord! Thank you Lord! For taking me by the hand and leading me to the scripture that describes my brother and his life." I looked over at my sister and said, "This is the scripture the Lord wants in our brother's obituary and that we need add nothing more " The particular passage was 'The Beatitudes'. Matthew 5: 3-12.

3. Blessed are the poor in spirit: for their's is the kingdom of heaven. 4. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

5. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
6. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
7. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
8. Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
9. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
10. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for their's is the kingdom of heaven.
11. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.
12. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

My brother's obituary was now finished along with a photo of him in his Navy uniform. Everything was ready for the printer.

On the day of his funeral, friends, neighbors, the addicted and the sick all came all were welcome. They sat in the same pews next to one another, with all their differences set aside. If you were a stranger, you would have been unable to tell one group of people from the other. We were all crying and bearing our great lost as one family.

After the funeral, the same people who hadn't spoken to each other for years- because of their lifestyles etc- were laughing and conversing like lost friends reunited. It was truly a wondrous scene to behold, all in loving memory of my brother. His work was done, and God had sent His Son, "Jesus Christ" to call him home. Praise God!

1 John 4:20 "If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?"

And as my brother had asked of me, I now ask of my readers.

Please, pray for someone you don't know. And, don't tell anyone who that person is. May God bless you and your family.

Copyright 2007, 2008

A MESSAGE FROM GOD (A MIRACLE?) PART 1

What is a Miracle?

The Merriam Webster Collegiate Dictionary, defines a miracle as being: "An extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs."

The Random House College Dictionary, defines a miracle as being: "An event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a divine or supernatural cause."

This next post is very difficult for me to write. Simply, because no matter how I tell this true story, my words will fall far short of describing properly the actual events. I will say, however everything that occurred on the date, July 12, 1981- a Sunday- rested in the holiest of hands, Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ-from the beginning of the events of that day to the glorious conclusion that week. It was a blessed event that took place in the life of my brother. On his behalf, I must tell you when he was born, it was said by the elders in my family, that he was born with a veil covering his face. I'm not exactly sure what that means, so I will leave it up to those of you who are interested to research it. I do know from the tidbits of his life I have been privy too, that God has a special place in His heart for my brother.

JULY 12, 1981 ( 7pm SUNDAY EVENING)

There was nothing unusual about this particular Sunday. The day started out very hot and quiet. I was sitting on my living room sofa,when my seven- year- old daughter ( this is the same little girl whose life had been saved by God twice) came out of her bedroom and asked me if she could go outside. I told her it was getting late (7pm) and that she would have to stay on the front porch. She wanted to take her (new) toy telescope with her, so I let her do so. As she left to go outside, I went to get my statue of Mary Jesus' mother off the television. (Check my other posts for her story.) I, then, went and sat back down on the couch. I wanted to say a prayer and talk to her. (It was something I did all the time.) I was holding my holy mother, the same way I always held her. I had my right index fingertip touching the right side of her heart and my left index fingertip touching the left side of her heart. When, suddenly, my fingers started to pulsate ever so slightly. I was startled at first, the statue had always moved in my presence, but her heart had never pulsated. I couldn't believe what I was feeling! So, I laid her down on the couch beside me as I nervously kept saying, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Gently, I reached over and cradling her in both hands, I placed my fingertips back on her heart. It was pulsating now like a regular heartbeat. I got up and laid her down on the couch, and reached over to pick up the telephone to call my sister and tell her the glorious news. At that moment, my little girl burst into the living room shouting: "Mommy! Mommy! Come out on the porch, so you can see the beautiful picture of a man in the sky!" She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the front door. I told her I couldn't come and see her picture because something miraculous had just happen to me. As she continued to plead with me to go onto the front porch and see the 'picture of the man in the sky', I was just as bound and determined to call my sister and tell her about my statue of the holy mother's heart beating. It was literally a tug - of -war going on between us, to either go and see what my daughter was so excited about or call my sister. I chose to call my sister. My daughter turned and ran out the front door back to the porch. I remember placing the call to my sister and how excited she became once she heard the news, and how she couldn't wait to hold the statue in person. ( She has held my statue of the holy mother many times, but has never witnessed her moving.) That was about 7:10pm. I have no further memory of anything until 11 pm that Sunday night. (God, had erased the hours from 7:10 to 11pm from my mind.)
That night, my husband and I were sitting at the dining room table enjoying one another's conversation, when, the angelic voice whispered into my right ear, "Ask your daughter (she knew my daughter's name) what did she see?" Her message came just as my daughter was walking past the dining room table, getting ready to go to bed. When I stopped her and asked, "What were you trying to tell me earlier? What did you see in the sky?"

END OF PART 1


Copyright 2007, 2008

THE BEGINNING OF MY RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD

My personal relationship with Jesus Christ, as my Lord and Savior, began at a very early age. Psalm 71:6 reads, "From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother's womb. I will ever praise you." Through the loving, spiritual nurturing of my mother, I learned how to love and worship God. He was such a powerful presence in her life that she wanted her seven (7) children to come to know, love and praise God, as she did.
Before my mother succumbed to Alzheimer's Disease, my love for God was unwavering. But, some time between her last sick days on this earth and her subsequent death, I lost my faith... in God. I remember reading my mother's death certificate with the names of the six factors that contributed to her death, including her twenty-year battle with Alzheimer's. Being shown her medical history all neatly packaged and presented, left me very angry. I thought it was excessive. She could have died with any one of the six illnesses, but she suffered as a result of all of them. I verbalized my pain to God many times over the succeeding months. My life, from that moment on, changed.
Upon separating myself from a loving relationship with God, I stopped living Life and became absorbed in self-pity and rage, instead. To my family and friends, I appeared grief-stricken. But, they were unaware that on the inside, I felt spiritually dead. The mere mention of His Holy Name brought forth unkind words from me. I was lost, lost in a world I chose to accept in anger. A world, without the presence of God, is a cold, dark, ugly place, void of Light and filled with hopelessness. I became incapable of showing love, even around my two children, whom I loved beyond life itself, and who I knew loved me. Even my sister had admonished me for lashing out at the Lord over my mother's death. She had always said our mother had not suffered during her illness, and she questioned my lack of faith in God's judgment. I was, in every sense of the word, a 'miserable' human being.
When I was finally able to clear my head, one thought in particular kept coming across my mind. One of my mother's favorite truisms was: "God don't make mistakes. He is a loving and forgiving God." On that day, when I made the dreadful decision to turn my back on Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, I committed the worst of sins.
Psalm 32:5 reads, "I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin. Selah." A most merciful God did forgive me. How do I know this to be true? Please, read my story.
God's forgiveness came while I was in my kitchen, one day. Home from school with colds, my two young daughters (ages 3 and 6) were sitting on the floor in the living room watching television. I was alone in my kitchen, finishing up the noontime lunch dishes, thinking about my mom and crying silently. When an angelic (female) voice, whispered into my right ear and said, "Go into the living room and turn the television to the Bill Kennedy Show" (a local tv show that offered movies). I questioned the thought and mumbled to myself, "'Bill Kennedy'?! I don't want to watch a movie." So, I shrugged off the thought and went back to washing dishes. Less then a moment later, the angelic voice repeated her request, whispering into my right ear. And this time, I was moved spiritually to go into my living room and take control of the television (for which I apologized, amidst cries of protest from my children) and quickly turned to the Bill Kennedy Show.
I got to the channel just as the movie title was appearing onscreen, The Song Of Bernadette. It told about the life of Bernadette Soubirous, a young teenager, who saw the Virgin Mary appear in a grotto in Lourdes, France in 1858. I had never seen or heard anything about this religious film. I was captivated from the moment I'd read the title and was moved once again, spiritually, to sit down and watch it. At the same time, my two children were begging me to switch the channel. I could hear them, but I was mesmerized by the movie. They soon settled down and started playing.
I remember having watched the entire movie, and as it ended, I had become so emotional that tears welled up in my eyes, a little at first then more. I couldn't control the tears as they were flowing from me, spiritually. My eldest daughter ran over and asked why I was crying. I tried to answer, but I couldn't speak, which upset her.
After what seemed like a long moment, my crying suddenly ceased. I found my voice and whispered to my children that I was alright. Hugging them both, I told my oldest to take her sister and go watch television; I'd join them shortly. I knew, spiritually, that I had only a few moments to get to the privacy of my bedroom, before my tears would start flowing again.
No sooner had I entered my bedroom and closed the door, my chest began to heave -- sudden tremendous spasms of heaving. It felt as if my tears were literally being pulled from the depths of my soul. And, like the flood gates of a dam, they burst open, and the tears came pouring out of me uncontrollably. I was crying like I've never cried before (or since), as pent-up emotions filled my bedroom. Isaiah 65:24 reads, "And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." I was moaning, groaning , calling out the Lord's name fervently, while falling to my knees. I prayed and asked for forgiveness, which I received instantly. And, suddenly, the heaving subsided and the tears stopped as quickly as they had begun. And, I found myself shouting repeatedly, "I understand! I understand, Lord!" Then, the burden of sadness and anger that had consumed my heart, my life, for all those past months was also gone. And, I felt so alive! So alive in spirit!
Mere words cannot describe what I was feeling. Praise God! Suddenly, I could hear my children beating on the bedroom door screaming my name, "Mommy! Mommy! Whats the matter?! Who are you talking to?!" It was a joyous reunion being able to kiss and caress my girls with a mother's undying love, with no emotional baggage attached to that blessed moment. Being able to share in their laughter and their lives again was truly a blessing.
When the house was quiet for the night, I slipped into my kitchen for some personal time. I needed to give praise for such a glorious day, blessed by a visit from an angel, who had a message for me, from a most loving and merciful God.

To those of you, who have just read my true story, I have something else to add. It was grief that had transformed me into a part-time atheist, for those many months, and nothing more. I'm no longer grieving for my mom. I know that she is at peace and is in a better place, and so am I. God is a merciful God. He never deserted me or my mother (as I had mistakenly thought). His presence was there in every circumstance during our 'waking' nightmares. He was with my mother while she was enduring terrible physical and mental hardships, comforting and loving her throughout her ordeal. Just as He was with me during my self-imposed separation from Him. I couldn't see or touch Him, but God was there in heavenly spirit beside me, never letting go of my hand, steadily guiding me back to Him and to His light. My God was still being the ever loving and forgiving Father to me, one of His most disobedient children.

John 8:12 says, "Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life."

PRAISE GOD! Please, always pray for someone you don't know. And, tell no one who that person is. May God Bless you.

Copyright 2007, 2008.

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