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Mysterious WaysMysterious Ways

Mysterious Ways August - September 2018

A brand-new magazine filled with true stories of extraordinary moments and everyday miracles that reveal a hidden spiritual force at work in our lives. These fascinating stories will entertain you and remind you that there is something more, something greater in our lives.

Country:
United States
Language:
English
Publisher:
Guideposts
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6 Issues

IN THIS ISSUE

access_time2 min.
editor’s note

My mom is making my sister’s wedding gown. From scratch. I like to think of myself as my family’s historian, so I’ve documented the process from start to finish. First, there was the competitive research stage (i.e., my sister tried on way-too-expensive dresses). Then the entire family took a field trip to a fabric store. Finally, my mom made a pattern and—voilà!—the dress was born. I’m not authorized to share a photo of it just yet, but it’s truly magnificent. Made all the more amazing because my mom has arthritis in her hands. How she stitched and sewed—and hand-beaded the lace—these past few months is a kind of miracle. Although, I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve always joked that my mom has “magic hands.” She once created a stylish ottoman out of…

access_time1 min.
his humorous ways

I glanced at my husband, Brian, next to me in the pew. I couldn’t believe he’d actually come with me! Every Sunday, I would ask, “Why don’t you come to church with me?” Every Sunday, he would say, “Sundays are for my music.” Brian was a DJ on the side. He had a recording studio in the garage, where he mixed tracks. For some reason, though, he’d said yes to church today. Already I was thinking this was probably just a one-off. The pastor appeared at the pulpit. “Good morn—” he said. His words fizzled out. The mic had died. A frazzled teenager appeared with another mic in hand—which didn’t work either. Of all the church services for Brian to see! “I bet the soundboard is overheating,” Brian said. “Maybe you could help?”…

access_time2 min.
wonderful world

Decatur, Georgia Laura Sissoko had long wanted to take home the stray she’d been feeding by her sawmill. A dog she’d nicknamed Buddy. “He finally let me pet him, and I decided when he was calm enough to let me bathe him and cut off his matted fur, I would take him in full time,” she told Fox 5 Atlanta. Before she could, though, Buddy disappeared. Unbeknownst to Laura, he’d been picked up by PAWS Atlanta, an animal shelter. Laura shed more than a few tears at her canine pal’s absence. Until a photo of him popped up on Instagram—an adoption announcement from PAWS Atlanta. Laura dropped everything and headed for the shelter. Amazingly, there was no adoption fee for Buddy. A few weeks earlier, a donor had covered the cost…

access_time2 min.
mysterious moments

Melinda Neal I sat on the porch of my childhood home, the morning after my mother had passed. I am a person of faith, but Mom’s death was difficult. I prayed, Please, God, show me Mom is with you! I immediately saw a blue dragonfly hover over Mom’s favorite yellow rosebush. Was that it? My sign? I couldn’t be totally sure. Not until two years later. Mom was on my mind one afternoon. I fiddled around the house, needing a distraction. I came across a box on the top shelf of my closet, one I hadn’t unpacked since moving years earlier. It was full of odds and ends, including jewelry Mom had made for me. A yellow beaded bracelet at the bottom of the box caught my eye. Especially the design…

access_time1 min.
#ahhhmazing

The friend request popped up on Randall Vandivier’s Facebook page in 2014. From Marion McDowell in Wisconsin. She didn’t look familiar, and Randall lived in Ohio. But they had a mutual friend, so Randall accepted. The two got to chatting and realized that Marion’s grandfather and Randall’s uncle had been close friends in Ohio. Small world! Three years later, Randall posted a photo of his mom’s sister on Facebook for her ninetieth birthday. Aunt Mary Louise had been like a second mom. Randall’s dad had moved to Florida when he was a kid and died years later in Miami. Marion sent Randall another message. She recognized his aunt. Randall pondered Marion’s name. “Are you related to Jesse McDowell?” he asked. “That was my father’s name.” “My father’s name was Jesse McDowell!” Marion replied.…

access_time6 min.
the green light

I stared at the clock on the ICU wall. It was 3 a.m. and I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t pray anymore. My two-year-old son, Joseph, lay on the hospital bed, hooked up to about a million machines. My husband, Brian, slept in an armchair by Joseph’s bed. Every beep of the machinery seemed to echo my deepest, darkest fears. Joseph might not make it.… A day ago, Joseph had been a happy, mellow toddler who loved playing with trucks and eating mac and cheese. Now doctors were preparing Brian and me for the worst. For the inevitable. All because of a freak accident in the snow. We’d spent that entire Saturday, January 24, 2015, sledding and building snowmen, only returning to our warm apartment when Joseph got hungry. After…

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