When I lost my mother, father and brother, my life changed forever. To those not blessed with a faith-filled heart these events my seem tragic and unimaginable. My faith in God revealed to me an amazing power at a pivotal time in my life, offering me comfort in a moment of supreme challenge. My story is a powerful message of hope and confirmation of why our faith is crucial to this life.
My mother died at the young age of 39. She had breast cancer. I was devastated to say the least. I was only 12 years old. This loss in my life gave me the wisdom and courage I needed to proceed with my life. My faith remained close to my heart.
Years later, I lost my father to kidney cancer and seven years after his death, my only brother died from pancreatic cancer. He was only 41 years old. At the time of my brother’s illness, I began to hear many messages from beyond this physical world. Messages of hope and love from my parents.
They wanted me to know our loved ones that pass away remain connected to us forever, even though we may not see them. They wanted me to share my story with those who struggle with loss. And after my brother passed, I received many messages from him as well. He shared with me what happened to him after his last breath and that there is life after life. Death is not the end.
Before my brother passed away, I witnessed a bright light shining through my window one early morning in my bedroom. It was the most blinding light I had ever seen. It was from a window, which faces a wooded lot–no streets or street lights or cars.
I asked my mother what this light was. She told me it was a light from heaven shining upon you because you were not bitter or angry about your brother’s illness or death.
I have many other messages to share and my story is available in a self published book, which I wrote and published last summer. It is called Tomorrow’s Promise
by Mary Elizabeth Robinson. The title words came to me in a message soon after I learned about my brother’s illness. I wrote down all my messages that I ever received. I woke from a sound sleep to hear the words and meaning of “tomorrow’s promise” and had to get up and write them down because it was so profound.
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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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My family are from Western Australia in the Pilbara region. This is where my miracle happened in 1996.
We have cyclonic seasons here. It happened after a big cyclone, when the rain stopped. My children Kasey, Pin’e Robert and my brother-in-law Colin and cousin Anna drove up to Mt Welcome a big hill in the town that overlooks the surrounding district. We all got out to view the scenery from the top. My daughter Kasey was 5 at the time and cut her feet. I saw the blood and prayed genuinely from the heart.
I took my daughter to the hospital but the bleeding had stopped. I was deciding whether to go in or not. My cousin Anna said go in and check it out. I went into the hospital and the nurse gave me a bowl of water to bathe her foot in the treatment room while she attended to another patient. My aunt was also a patient at the small country hospital.
When we were at the top of the hill before we entered the hospital I saw one cut. When I cleaned all the blood there were three other small cuts with the one I had seen. The three other small cuts I touched with my finger and mentioned to my aunt (who was in the treatment room with me) that it must have been a big piece of glass because of the other three cuts. The nurse entered back into the room and mentioned about the cut.
I popped myself down, and now there was only one cut. The other three I had touched with my finger were gone. I went outside and told my cousin Anna and Colin what had happened. I said I wasn’t going to go in until I heard you say go and check it out, she said she never said that, I said I heard you loud and clear. I have never had anything happen like this to me before and it wasn’t a matter of life and death, but I still cannot believe till this day.
My sister and I went to our local pastor and his wife that evening and they haven’t heard anything like it either. The pastor’s wife grabbed my sister’s and my hand and prayed. I told my teacher and some class students at TAFE where I was doing a course about Early Childhood. My teacher is a Christian lady and she said Christ does miracles. I also told a nun who resides here in Roebourne, and she said you may have healing hands.
I still don’t know what it is but I have watched the American program CSI and have seen where wounds go through 6 different stages and I don’t know why those cuts disappeared – but I know that I prayed genuinely, and when I prayed and saw the blood I was thinking of my sister who died in an car accident in 1988.
This miracle story was submitted by “M.B.” from Australia
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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.