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Please tell us how God has helped you,

or share the daily blessings He brings.

If you are having trials, come here for

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debate. Nor is it about whether God exists,

or whether religion is good or not.

It is a place for people with religious

convictions to gather. It is for praise in

time of blessing and help in time of trial.

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Omega-Metalgaruru



This club will be closely moderated, please no flaming or straying from the topic.

Thank you Omega. I would like to share a time in my life when things worked out in an amazing way.
My parents had given my hubby and I a car they were no longer using. We went on a trip to visit my mother-in-law and on the way home one of the tires blew out. You know the kind where the whole tire explodes and falls off. We were traveling at 70mph with a huge Mac big-rig truck on our right and a big suburban vehicle on my left. Almost always when a tire blows like that your car is all over the road and uncontrollable. I am not a strong woman, but they steering wheel seemed to be held totally straight by a force far beyond my capability. We didn't so much as swerve in the road. I have seen videos of the effects of a blown tire and professional drivers expecting the tire to blow can't restrain the vehicle. When I was young this happened when my father was driving and strong man that he is, our car was all over the freeway. For myself I praise God for angels that watch over us and in time of need protect us.

Very scary thing to happen, Oracle. I had an experience like that but instead of my tire blowing the big truck in front of me blew a tire. There were huge pieces of tire flying through the air and by a miracle not one hit my little car. I didn't have to turn the wheel at all. The pieces just split up and went around my car.

I am always amazed when things like this happen. One of my close friends was threatened by a wildfire 2 years ago. She had to evacuate her home. When she got back she found her home unharmed while all the others around her had burned. When the fire reached her shed it turned at a right angle and went around her place then turned back to it's original heading. It chared the corner of her shed but nothing more. On top of this, just inside the door of the shed (next to the charred corner) was a five gallon plastic can of gasoline. Talk about Divine intervention.

OMG! this is a wonderful club.

I always believe in Guardian Angels. eversince i was a child i believed that everyone has one assigned to protect us. Sometimes when i'm deep in thought and i'm crossing the street, or simply walking by the sidewalk, a car would suddenly appear near me, but i haven't been harmed. something would always trigger my awareness before something bad happens. it happened to me a lot of times and because of that i don't forget to pray to my guardian angel as well

@Abby, I talk to mine The scriptures talk about our guardian angel assigned us at birth, and a recording angel that marks our life. I try always to remember their presence and am always thankful for their watchful care. I first came to truly believe in them when my husband died (15yrs ago). I had gone out for a walk and all of a sudden I felt their physical presence on each side of me. They were radiating comfort and peace that I had never known before. Out there in the wilderness I was broken by the fact that they came to me while I was not in a relationship with God. I have been ever since. The impression they radiated was so strong I could tell exactly where they were and how tall they were,(about 12' ). It's the closest I've ever come to touching the veil that separates us. Sometimes a single event can change us forever, that was mine. I cannot doubt their existence.

god helped me and my sister truth some hard times and he still does. in the deepest moments he is there but in the happy moments also. i just love that. it is a real confort to know he is always there

Preach it Sister, Preach it =3

about an guardian angels i think it looks over all off us. and every thing bad that he just let go true is with a reason it makes who we are.

I definitely believe in angels, too, and the power of God.

Here is an interesting story. After graduating from university after studying for five years to become an engineer, my brother was struggling a little to find a job, so a few days before a job interview he had, my mom e-mailed her sisters (my aunts) and asked them to pray on his behalf. And, of course, they did. Then, on the day of my brother's interview, all the way in the Philippines, two of my aunts were together. One of them, my Aunt T, is psychic (Seriously. It's sort of a thing in my mom's family.) and she explained to my other aunt that she was having a vision. In it, she saw my brother and surrounding him were angels. At that time, my brother was having his interview. And guess what? Later, he found out he got that job

Also, when I was in grade 8, I believe, I had a bad case of the flu. I had been feeling absolutely terrible the entire day - I had a fever, felt tired and sore, my head hurt, my appetite was way down (I only had two bites to eat and that was all I could stomach), and my throat felt so raw that it hurt just to breathe. And because I had been sleeping most of the day and because it hurt to breathe, I was struggling just to sleep at night.

I remember lying in bed, almost in tears because of how horrible I felt, and I spotted my copy of the New Testament Bible I had received in grade 4. I opened it and found a story where Jesus healed the sick. After reading a few more of those stories, I made a quick prayer to Jesus, asking him if he could do the same thing to me as he did to the people in the stories. A few minutes later, the pain and the malaise subsided and it no longer hurt to breathe so I was finally able to sleep.

Ever since, I have always believed that Jesus will be there for me and through any rough times, I have always depended on prayer to help. I really believe it works

Praise be Aeternus. I know sometimes I don't get the healing I pray for, but I am compensated with extra endurance to get through it. I know I couldn't make it through most days without Him by my side. On those really bad days is when I feel the closest to Him.

Yes, unfortunately, prayer does not always work. For example, my uncle's recent passing seemed to be inevitable despite all the prayers that were supporting him. Although, I guess in a way, his relatively quick death was a blessing because he was in a lot of pain and he apparently slipped away very peacefully in the hospital so perhaps the prayers did help, just not in the way we expected.

In the end, I think it was just his time to go. After all, we all must die some time. A family friend's mother recently passed away, as well, at the age of 94 and my aunt joked that my uncle liked old people so he is probably showing her around heaven as we speak.

As for suffering in general, I know that people often ask why God allows suffering if he is such a loving God. But in my mind, it's the suffering that allows us to be closer to him and to appreciate the good times and the good things we have. After all, we can't know light without knowing what dark is, as well. Similarly, how would we know happiness if we never knew sadness? To me, these things can only make a person stronger if they don't allow it to destroy them first.

Amen. In truth. Darkness itself, we endure time and again, is indeed the devil himself, and in due time, he will be smitten. But he serves that purpose. To better understand our mistakes so we know that darkness, Realize our true king is God, and rebuke that constant Evil entity that uses many things from our emotions to our own bodies desires and chemicals, from lies with the truth, to any form of misunderstanding of hardship.

As you can see. God has been with you all.

Even i, time and again, always thought he was on the throne, way up there... Out of reach.

But my dear goodness. He has been there right smack dab beside us. He has held the shield to defend us and quench the thirst of the firey darts that has time and again continued to assualt us. He swung the Sword of the spirit time and again to defend us so we dont become completely engulfed in darkness. He Weilded the Word of God. The very Light that he shined on us to cleanse the darkness and blow it all away back to where it once came from. He has been there when we rejected him, when we didnt believe him, when we thought wrong of him.

But he stuck by us like a Loyal Lion. When we thought he would eat us when we were sinners, surrounded by those evil, forever famished Black lions surrounded by a evil aura, he said "Get up my Child, and walk forth for i will protect you" and he slayed every Evil Lion in sight. Whether you believed in him or not, He stood there always and Roared out the Name of the Lord, and every demon and unholy beast trembled and ran, maybe some perished from the Truth and Holiness of God.

Sure... I have my sins, even some i continued to commit, knowing i will have alot to explain to him once i reach that final day. But he is forgiving and let me in, Into my new body, All he asks that i make my commitment to be his child. To follow his Word, and to confess every sin that have been on my back.

As much as this sin has been a curse to me for 7 years... The Lord worked in me to repent my sins. I know one day, with high hopes even when i become doubtless, that he will Stop me so i can continue doing his will, Without anything to stop me.

... It amazes me so...that it makes me cry...not with sadness, but with joy.

How a young Babe, came to die for us. as i hear the hymn in my heart, and No matter how i commited that same sin...he forgave me always.... *sniff*

How a young child who came a human from the Heavens above...gave us hope...gave us belief...Gave us... a soul... save us from being animalistic body lusting meat bags.

He died for us so we can have a chance to repent from our ways we found sinful. Never did he once ran up and told us to get behind him. He gave us the power of choice and let us decided.

*sigh* I remember...

Back then i was afraid to come to God as a youngin.

During that time i was cursed with that...wretched sin. I was overcome with constant congestion even though i was rather healthy for my thin size...

It got worse i couldnt go back to the 4th grade...

I was so over comed my lungs were filled with it...that...I could almost couldnt breath.

My Mother sat by me rubbing my head. In truth she could not know how hard it became to breath.

I actually stopped breathing for the moment... I really didnt know what happened... It was just darkness...all i could see... suddenly i felt my lungs fill with a great burst of air and...well to not make ya vomit, i coughed up one Heaven of a Loogie, i still had to rest.

As not as impressive as it seemed, it happened because of a intense allergy during the time in summer.

I really thought i would Die young.

But i think some people in this world, even mislead, realized the Darkness plays its role in God's Creation as God, the Light onto our path, Does as well. Only...God has the most favor, If you will.

God Bless you all, with the greatest of love i can muster from within my own body but intruth my soul. to the richest of blessings so you can give it to others so they can be given to God, in turn for a new hope.

Dont be fooled by darkness, no power or favor nor a promise comes from darkness

Let not another force or tempt you into darkness

Do not be fooled by other beings of Light. For God is the one who truelly knows the past, knows what is today, and knows what will happen. He knows what is right.

And if i were by chance to become a knight if it were in his plans. I would be a knight of God. I would never draw my sword against a Being of my same blood and flesh. But against those of demons who truelly came in the appearance of man, and beasts of unholy nature.

I didn't notice this place in the start. Thanks for starting this awesome place Omega.

I always believe that prayer works, like in the time of exams I at least pray before the exam starts. Thank God, I was able to pass in the most difficult subject.

Now I'm at least hoping for a miracle to happen to my friend. She's been finding various methods to solve her problems of being bullied through the internet. She's been doing this for months now.

We will keep her in our thoughts and prayers too Kinni. That she might overcome through the Lord, her eyes open and find strength. Very happy you found us Kinni.

Amazing story Omega. That must have been very frightening not being able to breathe. And then at the last moment the healing hand brings relief. I can understand how that would make Him very real to you. There is no way to convey the magnitude of those miraculous encounters with Him. Only by experiencing it yourself do you come to Him, in awe and thanksgiving.

sharing experiences like these is like reading chicken soup for the soul. very inspiring. a testimony that God, no matter what you call him (Jesus, Allah, Buddha, etc.), will always be there to help.

it's nice that we can talk about His good works here.

I agree Abby. It's like I've been keeping that part of me bottled up here. It's wonderful to be able to talk about God. And the changes He makes in my life.

I was sent this story this morning and just had to share it


The Old Man and the Dog
by Catherine Moore

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me.

"Can't you do anything right?"
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumber jack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband , Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that migh t help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzl e with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

"He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

"You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even
started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers."

"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...

Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.


Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly.
Live While You Are Alive.
Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.
Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

@oracle - this was so beautiful i was moved to tears...i printed it out and shared it at work...when they asked where it came from, i just said "a special friend"

s

Thank you s. My eyes were watery too. It just reminded me of so many of the things we have been discussing throughout the VS, I had to post it.

we have had a few issues with staff members this morning and the other admin and i will have a meeting with them today...and this totally focused my thoughts and reminded me of why we are here...thanks for sharing...

s