As an adult, my life was not always so easy. I made so many dumb choices starting at about 18. In 1996, at 36, I was divorced and struggling with two kids. I had two jobs, but just couldn’t manage. So, I filed for bankruptcy, and moved into a close friend’s home. My dear friend, Betty, was in her 80s and wanted someone she knew to live in her home when her family placed her in an assisted living facility. We’d made arrangements for me to buy it on a rent-to-own basis.
I was working FT as a Para-Professional and was awarded a merit scholarship to the University of Toledo to get my teaching degree. It was so hard to juggle it all, and when Betty died, my chances to stay in the houses grew slim. Her kids wanted me to buy it conventionally, or get out. I was so distraught…there was nowhere for me to go, and I was in school FT living off my school loans. I had one last chance, and that was to get help from the Catholic Charities mortgage program (which ultimately denied me).
It happened to be Ash Wednesday, 2002. I was driving home from that meeting realizing that I’d missed mass, too. My frustration was beginning to build up. So many emotions consumed me, and while at a stoplight I grabbed the crucifix of my Rosary hanging from the rear view mirror, and I let God have it! I remember actually shouting through tears that I hated him for not helping me…for not loving me. I just couldn’t understand. I was so heartbroken, and angry.
It was about a 5-minute drive home, but one that I will never forget. As my tears subsided, I put on my sunglasses so the other drivers wouldn’t see that I was crying. At the next traffic light, I noticed there were red droplets of what I assumed to be catsup on the crucifix, and I was annoyed thinking my son had squirted it on there. So, as I drove I tried to rub it off, and when I took my sunglasses off to inspect it, there was nothing there! The droplets only showed up with my sunglasses on. Then, I noticed where each was…on Jesus’ forehead, abdomen, hands, and feet.
At that split second, I felt something was not right. What came next was so profound I still get overcome with emotion…all I remember is white light, so bright I couldn’t see to drive, and from it came the most profound feelings of love. I can’t begin to describe it, but all I can say is that I knew in my heart I was experiencing divine presence. I don’t actually know how long this occurred…time simply stopped for a few seconds. Then the light was gone, and I was in traffic.
I was disoriented and shaking as I drove the short distance home. When I pulled into the driveway, my son Sean and his friend “D” came running out to the car. I’d forgotten I had to drive them to Karate lessons. They were late. I thought, “OMG! How could I act normally?!” I’d put my glasses back on so they couldn’t see I’d been crying, but those drops were still there (although they’d begun to flatten). I matter-of-factly asked the boys to look at the crucifix. They each said there was red “stuff” on it. They could see it! How?
I had to force myself to act normally. How does one act when they witness a miracle??? My life had changed in a split second. “I” had changed in a split second, and I had to figure out what to do…how to act, what to say, or not to say. The red drops slowly disappeared over 24-hours. I came so close to going to my parish priest, but was afraid to. I have replayed this in my head for years, and it’s as if it has imprinted into my memory…every second…every emotion…even bits of memory of my surroundings.
The desire to avoid scrutiny has kept me from telling many people, except for those who would benefit from it. I feel spiritually connected to those I do share this with. I seem to know when the time is right. I did find a deacon (now a priest in upstate NY) online last year when searching for reported visions similar to this (without luck), and he was very helpful.
Actually, it’s what he said about witnessing the stigmata that I have just come to accept…”the miracle you witnessed I feel was very real and may have been a sign from God that you will go through much but not to doubt. You denounced God, and now Satan wants your soul. This miracle was a true blessing, and you must never lose faith for Satan and his allies will prey on every weakness, every moment of doubt, every fear you have testing your faith. You will know what to do…spend your days in prayer and ask for guidance.”
My life changed, but with many trials and tribulations that I would learn to deal with and overcome Outwardly, I’m just like the person standing next to me at the local Wal-Mart, but in reality I am NOT like anyone else, unless I can find them. I kept it a secret for a long time, until a time would come when someone needed hope, then I would trust in God to give me the courage to share this experience.
I think about this every single day even after 8-years. It’s like a re-run over and over again, but I go about my daily life as if nothing ever happened simply because it’s not meant for everyone to know, for obvious reasons (although I feel God leads me in sharing with those who need to hear it).
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Praying is a huge part of my life. It seems that every time I pray I feel that God is listening very careful to me.
Last year, on the month of July, I was set to go to Singapore for an international program. Unfortunately, two days before my trip I got sick. Being sick at that time was a REALLY BAD THING because it was when the influenza virus H1n1 struck out.
So I did every thing. I got blood tests, drank my medicine and the like. I was desperate. I didn’t want to miss this trip. I then resorted to praying to St. Jude, the patron of desperate situations. I prayed his novena.
And you know what, an amazing thing happened while I was praying. I could feel my body cool down and the sickness going away. As if I was automatically healing. I thought that the fever would come back but it didn’t. I was in good health. My feelings at that time were so overwhelming.
I actually experienced a real miracle. Although some might say that I was bound to get well anyway, I still believe that my prayer and faith saved me.
This miracle story was submitted by G. A. from the Philippines
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I was born in an Hindu family. I accepted Lord Jesus Christ as my savior in my childhood. I attend the church regularly with out fail. God has done many more miracles in our family and in my life.
The one miracle which God has done for our family is he saved my mom’s life from the curse spirit which possessed her for the past 7 years. She about to die in August of 2007 due the evil spirit and now she is alive by God’s grace.
Another miracle God has done for me is He healed my left leg and foot which were fractured in my school days in the year 1998. I was 15 years old when I prayed to God who promised that “the bone of the righteous person will not be broken.” I prayed to Jesus and keeping this promise, he healed me with his wounded hands without any surgery.
Thousands and thousands of thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ and I also thank god that he gave his salvation to our whole family. Praise the the Lord.
This miracle story submitted by “V.C.K.” from India.
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In the spring of 2004 I was diagnosed with Hepatitis C. After doing research, the only way I could have acquired this disease is when I was in the Navy 30 years before. I had a regiment of inoculations before going overseas to Japan where I was to be stationed. They used a gun that shoots the medicine into your body. This gun spreads fine particles of blood and is used over and over. I picked up the virus then and it was dormant in my body till 2004.
I had 2 specialists confirm the diagnosis and I was set up for a liver biopsy to find out the extent of damage to my liver since this is an incurable liver disease. The Sunday before the biopsy, I was in my small group class at church and told them of my diagnosis and asked them to pray for me. The group leader sat a chair in front of the class and all the men in the class came up and laid their hands on me and prayed over me.
During the prayers I felt such a comfort come over me and I knew the Lord was there…I could feel Him. The following Monday, the Senior Pastor called me and asked me if I could come to his office because he wanted to have the Elders of the church and himself pray over me. I agreed and went to his office the next day. We went into the Pastors conference room with all the Deacons and Elders of the church and talked for about 30 minutes. Then the Pastor anointed me with oil and all the Deacons, the Pastor and the Elders of the church all laid their hands on me and the pastor prayed over me. During this, I felt the Spirit of the Lord in an overwhelming fashion, come into me and cleanse my body.
After the prayer was over I was in tears and told everyone in the room about the feeling I had. Several minutes later I left and went home. On Wednesday I went into the gastro-enterologist office and had my liver biopsy. When the results came back the Doctor told me that he had never seen someone healed from Hepatitis C but that was the case. He told me that I definitely had the disease but now I didn’t. When he asked me what I had done, I proceeded to tell him about what happened at my church and about Jesus Christ my Savior. I have made a promise to the Lord that who ever will listen, I will tell the story of His power and mercy. How the Lord healed me from this incurable disease and will give Him all the glory. I have had my blood tested every 6 months since this happened and I am fine…..no, I am more than fine, I am BLESSED. To God be the Glory!!!!
This miracle story was submitted by “D.W.” from TX
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The first time I saw him was in 2004 when I was twelve. I was at Camp Santa Maria in Gaylord Michigan. It was the second week of camp on I believe it was Thursday. That morning when we were at mass I saw everyone’s Guardian Angels bringing up offerings to the alter right before the blessing of the gifts.
Later on that night after taps and bed I couldn’t sleep. I began to focus on a little light which I thought was something like a firefly. The light began to slowly get bigger and bigger until it got to be about life size. At this point I was staring at it in confusion more than anything else.
Then all of the sudden colors started to appear, there were reds, blues, greens, browns, yellows, blacks, and whites. It was like an amazing painting, starting off with the base colors working out to eventually getting the details. It is hard to explain the man but I’ll do my best.
He had dark brown hair that was long and curly. It looked super silky and it was wet with sweat. His body was lean and thin with toned abs. His legs were long and thin his feet were big.
His arms were also very long and strong, his muscles were very defined and his veins stuck out under the strength of his muscles. His hands were strong and stretched out and were very big. His skin was dark tan and it looked really smooth. He did not have a visible scar on his body.
His face was the most defined part of his body with big red lips and large cheek bones. His hair lay strategically placed on his forehead and his nose was smaller and long. But his eyes were very different than most would expect, they were the deepest green I had ever seen. His pupils were pure black and the white in his eyes was whiter than snow.
He showed no emotion on his face accept for the love in his eyes which seemed like they were staring at me. Then I looked at the landscape and his surroundings. There were blue skies with dark clouds and lightening in the distance. The grass was either dead or gone. It was a rocky area and the amount of rain received seemed little.
Off in the distance was the only visible sign of life around, it was the Garden of Olives. My eyes wandered back towards the man who was still looking at me, the painters brush began to work again this time adding details beyond imagination. He had turned into the goriest looking person ever; he was covered in more blood and cuts and gashes than I thought humanly possible.
A crown of thorns began developing on his head but his emotions never changed. His body began dripping with blood and sweat, leaving a pool on the ground. The scenery began to change as well, the distant clouds were moving in closer and the lightning strikes were big and orange. A cross was being drawn in behind his outstretched arms.
At this point I had realized it was Jesus and I had realized were I was. He continued to look me in the eye, his eyes following my swaying in the strong winds. Now I was scared, not scared of what had happened to him or what could have happened to me, but of what was going to happen to the people who had done this to him.
The paint brush’s owner was back at work this time a small minor detail that made the biggest difference in the world; he painted a tear. This made me cry and it made me squirm uncomfortably. The image in front of me began to fade off into the distance returning to the little speck I thought was something like a lightning bug earlier. This image has been left in my head ever since than for a good reason.
The second time was in 2007 at Battlecry Detroit on Saturday. It all started when we had the opportunity to yell out “I want the cross.” I yelled it out but wasn’t sure if I meant it. When I went up to the cross I looked right at where I remembered Jesus’ eyes would have been, and they where. They were! He was looking me in the face again! And this time he was smiling. He looked exactly the same accept he was smiling and the tear was gone.
At this point I was excited as ever, I was smiling and had butterflies in my stomach. It came to the point where I was so happy I began to laugh as did he and we laughed so hard it brought us to tears. I was so excited to see him again nobody could have told me to calm down. Some of the people that were next to me were looking at me like I was crazy, which I am and was.
It was almost 5 minutes before both of us had calmed down. We made eye contact again and burst out laughing again. We did this a few times before we were actually able to go without laughing. The funny part is that we never even spoke a word to each other, everything was threw eye contact and facial expressions.
We had gone about 30 minutes of just staring when he began to fade away. But this time when he faded away his blood and crown of thorns, cuts, bruises…everything went away. And he was more beautiful than any other human you will ever see. To this day I have not met a more beautiful person and I can’t think of one either. Not only can’t I think of one but I can’t imagine one. Jesus works in mysterious ways.
This miracle story was submitted by “D” from MI.
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On July 17th 1990, my abusive 1st husband and I got into a bad argument. We both had our own Harley Davidson motorcycles. Mine was a show bike. I had won many trophies with this motorcycle that had a special art on it and the name “destiny” across the top of the gas tank. Well I left the house due to the fighting because I just couldn’t take the abuse anymore.
When I walked out the door the last words I spoke were “it can’t possibly get any worse.” I yelled that to my husband before I ran out the door. I got on my motorcycle and just drove.
Less than 2 miles from home now, 11:00pm at night, I was on a main street when a van pulled right out in front of me and just stopped. I tried to go around the back of the van, but it happened too fast. I remember on the other side of the van was a male crossing the street so I thought it was either me or the pedestrian. I decided it had to be me. I let the bike go. My head hit the concrete. I remember briefly being in an ambulance, then I was out again.
Then I remember briefly that I was in a hospital. I heard all the voices trying to save my life, but i let go. I saw the most beautiful light I had ever seen. I felt no pain, no loss. I felt a peace I had never ever felt in life.
Then I saw Jesus put out his hand to me. He was so beautiful. I put out my hand to him, but right before our hands could hold each other, He told me it was not time, that I must go back. I begged no….the next thing I remember was the ER doctor asking me my name. I was so upset knowing I was back in life form, that I refused to answer the doctor.
After that I remember a priest talking to me. I was told by my family I was in the ICU. I was out of it again. I did finally wake up, but still to this day I do not know the truth of how long I was in a coma. My family did tell me that the doctors had taken them into a special room alone and they were told I would not make it because my head and face injuries were too severe.
After a month or more, 8 hours of surgery, 7 wonderful doctors, and seven steel plates in my head and face I am still here, and ya know what? I even know some of the reasons now that I was sent back here. It’s all so clear to me now. I have been in law enforcement for a total of 19 years, and although my health is declining now, I have helped so many people within the time from the accident till now and will continue to.
Oh yeah, the man crossing the street, my rear foot peg injured his leg very badly, but he was O.K. And the white van that caused all of this left the scene….never to be found. I don’t know how he lives with himself to be honest. But ya know what, I think of how other people out their have it so much worse than me, and that keeps me going.
It took exactly 1 year for me too heal enough to go out anywhere. Hhaving the strenth to pull through the accident gave me the courage to leave my abusive husband. I swore to always be alone. I just couldn’t trust men ever again. Well after 15 years of being alone I met the most wonderful man in the world. Three months later we were engaged, then married on July 15th,2005.
I still am learning (every day of my life a little more) just why Jesus sent me back here. The ironic part is, my husband and I met only because of the tragedies that occured on 9-11, when we recieved our marriage certificate after being stamped by the county, the time it shows it was stamped is 9:11, we both took that as a sign, but ya know what? My greatest sign of all was the night I died. It completely changed my entire life. I wish I could shout to the world: ” if you just love God enough and do not hurt other people, ever lasting peace will be yours for eternity.”
This miracle story was submitted by “T” from IL.
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September 10, 1996 was the day I found God, or, God found me, to be exact. Prior to that date, I was a miserable person, who lived her life for a mortal, who, no matter what I did, or how hard I tried, was never satisfy.
For fourteen years I was trying to please this person (my step-father), but to no avail. In the meantime, my mother was caught in the middle. She has been mentally and verbally abused all the years she was married to him. She would have left him a long time ago, but with the little education she had, she didn’t know where to go. So she stayed for her children’s sake. She was miserable, too, and turned to alcohol to drown her pains. Then she took her frustration out on me.
I had moved out after staying with them for four years ( I moved from Thailand to the U.S.) She would called and complaints of how we (my sister and I )never did her proud, etc, in spite the fact that we had never gotten into any trouble, nor did we ever do drugs, nor did we ever drink, (with the exception of my brother).
By then I had just broken up with my boyfriend. Looking back, I couldn’t blame him for leaving me. I didn’t think anyone was capable of handling my emotional overloads. I cried all the time. My mom and my step-father didn’t realize what their verbal put down were doing to me. My sister just blocked the whole ordeal out of her mind entirely. I, on the other hand, was feeling depressed and contemplated committing suicide.
On the last weekend of August, my friend Lisa, who lives in Oklahoma, and has become a born again Christian, called me out of the blue, inviting me to go to visit her and her children. I said O.K.. Then I hatched a plan of how I was going to leave this miserable world of mine. I was going to visit her for a day and a night, then I was going to drive off into the one-way traffic and get it over with. I didn’t tell anyone about it, but left a note for my brother, who was sharing a house with me, to feed my two dogs. That was all.
I made it to Lisa’s house, and as usual, she was trying to convert me to become a Christian (I was a Bhudist). I was annoyed, but politely listen to her, all the while thinking, Oh, yeah, if your God is so great, then why did he allow all the war, poverty, and hunger to go on in the world? I thought she had lost her mind. We talked a bit more, then said good night.
I stayed in a guest room but could not sleep. The pain inside was too much to bear. Then around mid-night came the thunder storm, which was not in the forecast. It was loud, it shook the foundation of the house. The lights went out. Summer, the youngest daughter cried. I saw Lisa walked pass my room with the flashlight to fetch the milk for her daughter. I was wide awake.
Suddenly a loud, booming voice just came out of nowhere. WAIT, said the voice. It came on three times. Each time “the voice” was accompanied by the lightening and the thunder, yet I could hear it clearly. “The voice” was powerful, majestic, commanding, and yet loving at the same time. I was scared. I thought the house was haunted, and I thought that Steve, Lisa’s husband was playing a trick on me, you know, trying to convert me, but Steve’s voice was like that of Mike Tyson’s, so it wasn’t him. I tried to find other explainations, but couldn’t. So, I waited until daylight before ran out of the room into the kitchen, where Lisa was sitting.
I told Lisa of “the voice”, and that I was going to commit suicide that day. Lisa got up and hugged me. We both cried. She said, “Panna, I think that was God, trying to communicate with you. You should have got down on your knees and ask HIM what he wants you to do.” I said, “Lisa, I was so freaked out, I didn’t know what to do, besides, why would GOD want to talk to me? I’m not religious and I’m not even a Christian.”
She told me to trust her, that was GOD telling me to WAIT, for things will get better. Then she and I said a prayer together. The thought of committing suicide was gone. I felt relieved. I felt that I was loved all along. I just didn’t think of reaching out for that infinite and unconditional love. I thought I could handle it on my own.
I drove home, feeling as if the mountain of guilt, burden, and misery has been lifted. I felt free for the first time in a long time. I was going to live my life for GOD, no longer for a mortal. I forgave my step-father for putting my family down. He didn’t know the pains he had caused, because he was not happy with himself. And he didn’t know GOD the way his mother wanted him to know.
I stopped by to visit my mother that afternoon. She had divoced him. It took lots of courage from her, and lots of encouraging from us, her children, that she was going to be fine. We’ll take care of her. She is finally free.
In her divorce settlement, she got a 10 acres and cash. She bought a mobile home and parked on the land, adjacent to her former home with him. He still stops by from time to time. They agreed to be friends. But he’ll never change.
The day I stopped by, he was in her living room, ranting about how she should live her life, how her children were going to abandon her, how she was going to be alone and become homeless, and how stupid she was. She told him that someday someone is going to do to him what he did to her and her children. He rants on.
I opened the door and walked in. He turned around to say hi and excused himself out of my mother’s house, JUST LIKE THAT! I didn’t have to say anything to him anymore. GOD did it all for me. I told my mom of the experience. She apologized to me for the pain she had caused me and my sister. I told her I forgave her and she is free now, and that she needs not to drink anymore. Just ask God to guide her. She did. I’m at peace with myself now. There will be trial and tribulations ahead, but I’m not afraid, because I know GOD is looking out for me.
My step-father went on and married a woman from China, whom he met on the internet. She was a corporate lawyer, and she is a control freak. He has met his match. KARMA came true. My mom still drinks from time to time. She goes to the temple more often now. She still is a Bhudist at heart.
I became a highly spiritual person, not religious, but spiritual. Four years later, I saw JESUS in my room, TWICE!!! That’s another story. Someday I will tell you all about it. For now, GOD bless you, believers.
This story was submitted by “P.” from AR.