These aren’t my stories, but I’m going to tell them.
Let’s call her Dana. Dana was going for a walk near her home. It was a dirt road. Her high-school reunion was coming up, she was getting into shape.
A truck pulled beside her. He slowed down. He rolled his window open, he asked if she needed a ride.
Something was wrong. It was the way he looked at her.
Before she knew it, he’d jumped out of the vehicle. She tried to get away. He overpowered her and threw her into a ditch.
She landed a few good hits to his face, but he outweighed her.
He used a pocketknife. He pressed it against her. She screamed something. She doesn’t remember which words she used, but she aimed them toward heaven.
Something happened.
His body froze. Completely. He was like a statue, only meaner. She wanted to run, but she was too scared.
That’s when she saw another man standing above her attacker. He was tall, with a calm face.
“It’s gonna be okay, Dana,” the tall man said. “Go on home, sweetie, everything’s gonna be okay.”
Here’s another:
Jim was dying. A seventy-something Vietnam veteran with high morals, pancreatic cancer, and a two-packs-a-day habit.
Doctors said his cancer would kill him.
Treatments were hell. Jim met a man in the VA hospital. A homeless man with a duffle bag. A fellow vet.
They shared a few cigarettes. They swapped stories. They understood each other. Jim invited the man home.
The man stayed in Jim’s guest room. He stayed for several months.
He became Jim’s caretaker. He wiped Jim’s mouth after episodes of vomiting, he stayed up late during sleepless nights, he helped Jim bathe. He’d pat Jim’s back when nausea got bad, saying, “It’s gonna be alright.”
And he was there on Jim’s final day, too. He waited in the den while Jim’s family gathered around his bed. When the ambulance arrived, he hoisted Jim into it.
Nobody ever saw the man again.
I’m not done.
Carrie was a nursing student. She was on her way home for Christmas break. Her children were in the car. They were singing with the radio.
She hit a deer. An eight-point. It shattered her windshield. Think: antlers, screeching, crashing, screaming. She blacked out.
She woke to the smell of gasoline. Her children were crying. She was bleeding.
A man appeared at her window. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetie,” he said.
He muscled her door open. He helped her out of the car, he carried her children to safety.
Only moments after they fled the vehicle, it caught fire and turned to soot.
The man didn’t stick around.
I don’t know what you think about the nature of life. I don’t know how you feel about miracles. And I don’t care.
Because I know you—sort of. You’re human. Sometimes you feel like you’re losing. Sometimes you feel overlooked and alone. Sometimes you talk to the sky.
Sometimes you wonder if you’re going to make it.
I’ve spent this entire morning reading letters. They are stories sent to me from people who have seen things bigger than themselves.
It changed the way they see the world. It changed the way they think, even in hellish moments. And they have a message for you. It’s the same message that was delivered to them when they needed it most.
It’s going to be all right.
32 comments
Naomi Smith - January 12, 2018 8:11 am
Many years ago, 1986, we were all asleep. My husband was working in Mexico. Our youngest child was 3 and slept through the nights by this time. At midnight I heard an audible voice say “Go check Jimmy”. I jumped up and ran in to the boys room. He was in a massive seizure. He had not had one before. I woke the two older ones and we grabbed dry clothes and towels and headed for the car. We live in a rural area, 25 miles from the nearest hospital. When we got to the hospital he was almost black, still seizing. They air bagged him until they could get him intubated. They worked with him until he was stable enough for a helicopter to take him to Arkansas Children’s Hospital. The sun was up by this time. It was a long night and I thought I would ride with him in the helicopter. My brother had our other two kids at this time. They told me there wasn’t room for me in the helicopter. I would have to drive over. We had moved to Arkansas 3 months before. I had never driven there, about 150 miles away. Standing there looking up at that helicopter I thought, “I have never been this alone in my life.” Immediately, the words to an old hymn came to mind, MY LORD IS NEAR ME ALL THE TIME. Then I remembered the voice telling me to “Go check Jimmy” and I knew I had not been alone. I drove straight to Arkansas Children’s Hospital, without asking directions or having a roadmap. This was before cell phones and GPS. Our son is now 34. Admittedly, he has issues and we have made many more trips to various hospitals, many of those trips while my husband was working out of state or out of country but I’ve never been alone.
annie - January 12, 2018 11:17 am
I believe! Just look around!
Cathi - January 12, 2018 11:26 am
Yep, it is always the case. I know, I believe and it never fails to give me goosebumps. Thanks for the reminder on this early Friday morning, Sean!
Susan - January 12, 2018 11:30 am
Thank you for these words this morning. One of your faithful (me) needed to hear them in my head as I read your words. I love you.
Marisa Franca @ All Our Way - January 12, 2018 11:53 am
I believe in miracles. I think you’re one too.
D. Green - January 12, 2018 12:44 pm
Please keep writing! I think a lot of us need to hear “it’s going to be ok.” Thanks for what you do.
Gerrie - January 12, 2018 12:52 pm
Thanks. I needed this reminder.
Suzette Allen - January 12, 2018 12:58 pm
I had an awful day yesterday. I was in a funk. Grief does weird things to a person. I really, really wanted to talk to my mother. My whole body hurt from it. Somehow, you wrote this for me. You wrote this and I read it just when I needed it. I don’t know how you do it. Thank you.
Debbie Robinson - January 12, 2018 2:24 pm
Yes it is going to be alright!! Praise God,everything is going to be alright, because He died for our sins so that we might be saved!! He is always there for us in our time of need.
Jacque Kochak - January 12, 2018 2:52 pm
I love these stories, but why do some people get miracles and others don’t?
Jacque Kochak - January 12, 2018 2:54 pm
Or maybe we do, and we just aren’t seeing them.
Kim Obermueller - March 31, 2018 5:51 pm
So true…sometimes our hearts and minds have shut the door and we miss everyday miracles!
Betty - January 12, 2018 3:04 pm
Thank you for your words. They mean so much to me. I am going through some very trying times right now but I hear Him say “It is going to be alright”. Thank God He never leaves me nor forsakes me.
Summer Hartzog - January 12, 2018 3:09 pm
I have a story like that, too. I’ve only told it to a few and a few of those didn’t believe it. Some people can only believe in their own experiences, and that’s a shame. There’s hope, encouragement and inspiration in other people’s miracles. Thank you for sharing these.
Shirley Brown - January 12, 2018 3:29 pm
I believe in miracles. I’ve had them occur in my life and give me the hope I needed to look forward to tomorrow. God is alive. Thank you again for your reminders of the importance of having faith in the A!mighty and hope when despair becomes overwhelming.
Linda - January 12, 2018 3:31 pm
Only God. God can do anything..
Jack Darnell - January 12, 2018 3:35 pm
Thanks for being a magnet to someone who needs to tell THEIR story. So THANKS also for sharing some of them. GOOD STUFF
John Lewis - January 12, 2018 4:03 pm
I finished my Sunday school lesson last night. The lesson comes from Daniel 3. The last sentence in the closing paragraph is this – No matter what fires we face – in operating rooms, in funeral parlors, or empty houses – the Fourth Man can and will always find His people.
George Grant - January 12, 2018 4:39 pm
Thank you, I know these things are true. I just need to be reminded again and again and again. “One of the great enemies of hope is forgetting God’s promises. As a result, reminding is a great ministry.” John Piper
Lynda Clemons - January 12, 2018 4:53 pm
Thanks for sharing these stories, and please continue to do so.
Jack Quanstrum - January 12, 2018 11:14 pm
I like the way that sounds!
JULIA - January 13, 2018 1:41 am
Thank you. I hope and pray so.
Jody - January 13, 2018 2:02 am
Experiencing His presence is profound and unmistakable . Thanks for sharing these stories.
Michael Hawke - January 13, 2018 4:05 am
I’ll write mine to you soon.
Pamela McEachern - January 13, 2018 4:25 am
It is such a blessing when you realize an angel has come into your life. God has always sent an angel to me when I was a my lowest and just hearing those words “its going to be ok” makes it so much better. Thank you for the love and hope you share with us all.
Peace and Love from Birmingham
unkle kenny - January 14, 2018 1:00 am
When I was a boy I would get cut and bout pass out , whimpy kid . Mom would be there to tell me it will be ok . When I became a dad my mom sat me down and explained thangs to me. She reminded me of my whimpy childhood. Then told me ” YOUR child is going to get hurt , you Will be brave and look your kid in the eye and assure her that it will be ok . When the stitches are in and you are home and the child is sound asleep. Then you can go to your room, shut the door and cry your eyes out . ” We all need that reassurance from time to time. ….you will be ok . Uk
Sue Cronkite - January 15, 2018 12:53 am
Thanks for the reminder that we are not alone.
Belinda Strickland - March 31, 2018 10:09 am
I’m reading this on the Saturday morning before Easter Sunday. Funny how God gives you what you need when you need it. I’m so very thankful that the tomb is empty! Challenging days ahead for our family. I’m sure He will be right there- He always is if we just have the eyes to see. Thanks for the reminder!!
Susan G. - March 31, 2018 1:02 pm
A cousin shared you with me this week. Thank you for having the courage to write the truths you know. I too have several, yep several, of these stories to tell. Some are mine and some belong to my siblings. They began happening at an early age. Thank you for reminding me that everything is going to be okay.
Kay Mixon - March 31, 2018 1:24 pm
I , myself, know these things happen……..
Patsy - March 31, 2018 2:52 pm
A wonderful reminder on this Saturday before Easter! Your writings are almost like my daily devotional! Thank you for giving us something we didn’t know we needed!
She Whose Brain Seldom Sleeps - March 31, 2018 2:54 pm
Thank you for being the person who delivered those words to me today. My husband was in the navy for 20 years. He has the neurological form of what the VA is now calling Gulf War Illnesses. It’s bad. Can’t work any more and it just seems to get worse. Doctors don’t know how much worse it will get or how quickly. I am in my fifties and have mostly been a stay at home wife and mom. I went back to school and I get my associates degree in May. I am also working as an intern, hoping to get hired when I’m done. All while taking care of the many responsibilities that I have at home. I’m trying to prepare myself for the possibilities. Most of the time I feel like I’m running a thousand mile race and I’m nine hundred miles behind. But you know what? ….It’s going to be alright.