Hurricane Andrew cut a 40 mile wide wound across South Florida on Aug. 24, 1992. The deepest wounding was done in and near my neighborhood. My house was still standing, Praise God! But almost all of the windows and sliding glass doors either had been totally blown out or badly damaged. I was camped out in the living room of dear friends a few miles north. No phones working, no building supply place open within miles. How was I going to get the glass replaced? I prayed. I fell asleep praying. The next morning I was up early, decided to walk the dog and pray some more. "Lord," I said, "I don't know what to do." Looking around at the storm devastated landscape that now resembled a war zone instead of a vacation spot, I started to cry. And that's when it happened: I looked up the lonely stretch of road to see a glass delivery truck, with those unmistakable high sides, slowly making its way down the street! I ran, dog in tow, flagged the astonished driver down and stumbled through my story. Not only could this man help me, but he was already headed to my neighborhood that very afternoon to help someone else. He could meet me to assess the damage and measure all at the same time! God's perfect timing strikes again! The Hurricane Andrew experience was an eye opener for me as far as God's immediate, sometimes miraculous answers to our needs was concerned. That time was like living in an issue of GuidePost.

My husband and I have been looking for a one-story house in which to live due to lupus in my lungs and joints. Last Saturday I poured out my desperation to God, "Dear God, you know my body better than I do, so I'm leaving this matter in your hands." In less than two hours, the phone rang and God had provided the exact house we wanted.

At the end of a particularly discouraging day, during a hard and difficult season in our lives, the words of the readings for Evening Prayers said over and over, "Don't be discouraged." From the Psalms, "Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses of the Negev." From the Hymn; "The King of love my shepherd is, whose goodness fails me never/ In death's dark vale I fear no ill, with you, dear Lord, beside me/ And so through all the length of days, your goodness fails me never. . ." From the Refrain; "Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy. . ." It was hard not to get God's point for that evening.

My son and I were in Madrid over the Christmas Season (which extends to January 6, Epiphany) and all the restaurants recommended in our guidebooks were closed. We were getting weary with the walking. Jeremy speaks fluent Spanish and Mandarin and had studied enough to develop a decent tourist Italian. In frustration he finally stopped and asked directions from a stranger sitting on a stoop (who was waiting for his wife). "Where can we find a decent restaurant that is open and not too costly?" Jeremy asked in broken Italian. Low and behold, the man was from Ecuador. When his wife came, they walked 8 blocks with us to the Metro (the three chattering away in Spanish), showed us how to buy inexpensive holiday passes, rode with us to our stop (making sure we knew how to get back), got off at the Cathedral Plaza where there were many eateries, then walked with us pointing out good dining places that were open and not too costly!

We had to release 8 staff in a painful downscaling process. Several months later, we received a note from one of the women. She thanked us for the months without work, saying that God had used it to give her rest, and had met her in profound ways because of the "extended retreat." She had enjoyed getting her daughter ready for college without the stress of extra responsibilities. On the last day before her employment compensation ran out, she found a position on a local church staff working with a pastor she had worked with before. She said it felt like she was "coming home."

Because of a strong commitment to racial reconciliation, we began attending the oldest black congregation in DuPage County, Second Baptist Church of Wheaton, Illinois. This was during a long wilderness passage in our lives, and daily, if not weekly, we considered closing our ministry, declaring bankruptcy, but as long as we owed creditors we felt we needed to stay the course as long as possible. Almost every Sunday, one Word came to us from our black brothers and sisters. It was given in the sermons, in the music, in testimony. That Word was: "Don't give up." "God will see you through." "Hold on." "Don't jump the ship." "Don't turn back." "Keep on going." Now it is one thing to hear a godly message that reaches the soul every now and then, but it is another thing to hear the same message Sunday after Sunday for several years! If you don't listen to that Word, you are a fool. We stuck with it.

While developing a teaching program that used the metaphor of dance to show how to "step in time to God's sacred rhythms," it seemed as all my spiritual reading, the conversations I had with friends, and the films and books and magazine articles from popular culture gave me examples of this concept. This happens often when I am putting a teaching ministry together; it frequently feels as though God is using anything and everything to teach me. During this period, I was the plenary speaker at a woman's conference where one of the workshops was being taught by a professor from a Christian college who was head of the dance minor. I attended, took copies of all her Scriptural notes; and in a half-hour she had us all improvising worship dance. It was delightful!

In order to travel in Europe, we ordered Eurail passes in the States. Most guides tell the tourist that he can simply get on the train without reservations, but one or two traveler's articles had recommended purchasing seat reservations at low cost just to be safe. We left the States on December 27, and I had a nagging feeling we should get reservations. Now negotiating travel in a foreign language is often exhausting work, but when we reached our first major city, we made our way to the Eurail counter and begin to request reservations for the days ahead. We were traveling over the extended European holiday season, and we just "happened" to get the last seats available. I am always sorry when I fail to pay attention to those inner nudges. They invariably come from another source than my own human wisdom.

I bought 18 dozen tulip bulbs and 6 boxes of crocuses at a clearance at Menard's toward the end of October, but the fall was so busy that I didn't have a chance to plant them. Then the weather turned unseasonably cold (even for Chicago) in November. However, God gave us one warm weekend on December 14 and 15. I hung greens outside, coiled the garden hoses, turned over the garden pots, swept the front porch, clipped the dried artemesia for winter arrangements, and planted all the bulbs in a wan sunshine that nevertheless felt so warm on my back I removed my jacket. It also melted the hoarfrost that had been forming on the earth, making the garden soil friable for my delayed planting.

One fall we received an unexpected $5,000 check as a love gift from a former church David had founded and pastored decades ago. Then we received an unusually high honorarium from a week of ministry (where we had thought we were not going to receive any honoraria at all.) All together, this provision underwrote our living during an extremely difficult financial period at the ministry when I went off salary and David's paycheck was as much as 5 pay periods behind. In addition, during this time, one of our children unexpectedly repaid a gift that I had given to help underwrite an overseas trip. God's care came to us before we knew we would need it!

David was conducting a training conference for pastors in Michigan. After he had finished and everyone had gone, he went to pack the teaching materials back into our car and discovered he had a flat tire. At that moment, a man drove into the church parking lot. "Do you know where I could get this fixed?" my husband inquired. "Sure," said the man, and directed David to a tire place a block away, where they removed a nail, patched the tire, and inflated it - all for $15.00. Without that direction, David would have had no idea where to go.

For years David has bought 10 Christmas tree ornaments for our childrens' trees (each around a certain theme), and now he collects miniature ornaments for the grandchildren. The hardest ornaments to find are lambs for our daughter, Melissa. While on the road (he was driving), he noticed a Christmas shop sign (two miles off the major highway), but he had a little extra time, ran into the store, and found 7 adorable lamb ornaments - all in the one shop.

One July day I wrote in my prayer journal, "We are languishing here in Egypt. There are no roads forward." That day I received a poem from a friend. It is pasted on the next page. The last stanza reads, "When I consider how you consented to enclosure/ in Mary's womb/ in a narrow manger/ in a carpenter's home/ on the wooden cross/ my heart is moved to seek enclosure with you. Amen."

One of my great life-difficulties is being able to find handymen I can afford to help me keep the house going. My husband isn't inclined toward household repairs, nor does he have much time for this. We had an outside outlet that was not working so I couldn't plug in Christmas lights, power equipment, etc. I'd asked for workmen to repair this, but they had always overlooked my request. One morning as I was cleaning out a drawer, a business card fell to the floor. It reminded me that a friend had told me her husband was doing freelance electrical work while she was attending seminary. I made the phone call, and that morning he came past, fixed my outlet and charged me $50, an amount I was able to pay and gratefully did so.

In discouraging months, this printed Scripture came to me, mailed by one of our donors. "And David said to Solomon his son, 'Be strong and of good courage, and do it: fear not, nor be dismayed: for the Lord God, even my God, will be with thee; He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee, until thou hast finished all the work for the service of the house of the Lord.'" I Chronicles 28:20. It is pasted as a reminder in my prayer journal after several pages of complaints that God was not doing what I needed him to do. In other words, I received this right after I had written out my distresses.

I hired a fly-by-night handyman to repair the broken plasterboard in the attic floor of the garage. He was cheap, smelled of alcohol and the work got done, but it was less than a professional job. However, I was grateful to have the unsightly holes finally repaired and asked him to look at the wood framing around the upstairs windows, which was also in bad shape. "Lady," he said. "You've got so much water damage, the glass is about to fall through!" Then he suggested I call my insurance company, nailed some boards in place to keep the glass from falling, and I never saw him again. I called the insurance company and they said they'd replace the windows. God does use strange messengers from time to time. I'd never thought about our insurance, although we always pay the premium!

Katherine Gagayan from Bangkok, Thailand tells about her senior year in college when there was no money to pay for her schooling. Her father had instructed her to return home, but she was determined to find a way to finish school and receive her bachelor's degree. If only she could find one of the faculty families who took students into their homes; but with the term only one week away, those boarding opportunities were filled. Katherine spent a day in prayer and fasting.

Making her way across campus at sunset, she came upon one of the staff on horseback - "Papa Javier" - so called because of his kindliness. The rider paused his horse to chat a little, and the student told him about her search for a way to stay in school. "Oh," he replied. "Stop by my house tomorrow and let's talk with my wife." The next morning the young woman visited the couple, and they explained to her that they were allowed to house three students. There was still one slot left that they would gladly reserve for her.

Gratefully, Katherine then mentioned how fortunate she was to meet Papa Javier the night before. To her amazement he said, "I didn't meet you last night." Though she reminded him of their encounter, he insisted it hadn't happened.

Reconstructing the meeting in her memory, the young woman recalled that because it was almost dark and the rider was wearing a hat, she had never clearly seen his face, only the shape of his strong body on horseback. Katherine could only conclude that God had cared about her dilemma enough to send an angelic messenger to guide her to the loving care of the Javier family.

Linda Richardson, from Wheaton, Illinois, is a speech therapist, specializing in work with autistic children in the public school system. She tells of assisting a new student, Wendy, age 5, to adjust to the unfamiliar environment of the classroom. How was this to be done since the child was without language? Linda and her colleagues devised a visual schedule that would lead Wendy through her day using pictures and symbols placed strategically on a chart. With this tool, Wendy seemed to settle comfortably into the routine. That is until her father came to pick her up at the end of the class.

At this time the little girl went into a frantic panic reaction. She kicked and screamed, and it took three adults to carry and place her in the family car. Through the years of working with autistic children, Linda has learned to follow the rule: Don't just do something; stand there. This is the opposite of the natural helping instinct: Don't just stand there, do something. The quick reaction is often the wrong reaction for children with autism.

What had caused this extreme behavior and how could the child be helped? The teachers needed to stop, think empathetically, then get inside the child's mind and emotions. Prayerfully, Linda, a devout Christian, and her professional team of colleagues devised one further symbol to cue the child about the end of class. On the visual schedule, they pasted a picture of her father. When he pulled up outside the school to pick up his daughter, Wendy was shown the picture. Not only was there no kicking and screaming and despite the fact that most children with autism do not greet spontaneously, Wendy cried, "Papa!" Then she walked to the car quietly and got in.

Liz McFadzean, from La Canada, California is a practiced God-hunter. She dipped into an ordinary day to find this divine intervention: Today is my tennis day. I play every Friday with a couple of friends. On Tuesday I saw my doctor about a little tendonitis in my right thumb. She asked me not to play tennis for a week in order to let it rest. Not to be waylaid in my plans, I whined and said, "But I want to play." My doctor relented, but strongly recommended that I better put ice on it after my game.

Last night one of my tennis pals cancelled because of a conflict. The other called this morning with a stuffy nose. My Friday game is off! Do you think God did that for me to take care of me when I wouldn't take care of myself? I am thanking him today, because my God cares more about my welfare than I do. What a great, kind loving God we have.

An atheist couple raised their child in a godless home. The daughter had never heard about church, about Christ, or about a heavenly father. One night when the little girl was 5 years old, the parents fought violently with each other, and the father took a gun and shot the mother. Then, he turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger. This all happened in the presence of the horrified child who watched it all.

The traumatized girl was placed in a foster home where the foster mother was a Christian who took the child to church. On the first day of Sunday School, the woman told the teacher that the girl had never heard of Jesus, was in great pain, and to have patience with her.

During class, the teacher held up an illustration of Jesus and said, "Does anyone know who this is?"

The orphaned child raised her hand and said, "I do. That's the man who was holding me so very close the night my parents died."

NOTE: This is one of those ubiquitous internet stories that come unattributed, although it is supposed to have been reported in a "southern newspaper." However, since I have heard this tale (with variations of course) at least fifty times during the years that I was broadcasting and writing about the dreadful phenomenon of child sexual abuse, and consequently, also working with survivors, I include this sighting convinced by the testimony of so many of its representative truth.

Tammi Conn shares a Sighting that is a classic example of linkage and timing. I graduated from Southern Illinois University in December of 1996. I tried to stay in Carbondale but could not get a job. So I finally gave up the job hunt and moved home in November of 1998. I worked at a travel company but wasn't happy there since as a secretary, I wasn't using my degree in business education. I sent out resumes to three local high schools and to the Evangelical Training Association (ETA). ETA responded and hired me. The high schools sent applications, but since I had a job I didn't fill any of them out.

I started at ETA in February of 1999 and I enjoyed the challenge of the job. At the end of July, however, I received a message from Geneva High School that the business teacher had resigned. They had received my resume from Hinsdale South High School. Since I had promised ETA at least a year of service, I wasn't actively pursuing a place in education, but since I knew I wanted to teach on the high school level, I went to the interview (for the experience), was called back but wasn't hired (more experience).

About two weeks later, I got a call from Kaneland High School. Their business teacher had quit leaving a position to fill. Apparently, the resume that I sent to Hinsdale South was faxed to Geneva in July 1999, then faxed to Kaneland in August of 1999.

I thought about the disadvantages of waiting another year to start a career in my chosen profession during the 45-minute drive out to Kaneland and decided that I would take the position if it was offered, provided it was at a salary of at least $25,000. The interview was grueling, but I was offered the position on the spot for $26,500.

After searching for a job for over a year in Carbondale, Illinois to end up with a good position at ETA and then to be sought after for a position in my chosen field could have been the result of my moving back North. But the resume that lived from February 1999 to August 1999 was definitely the work of the Lord!

Marian Oliver, Director of Product Resources at Mainstay Ministries tells about a visit to the Wheaton Eye Clinic for a routine eye exam. Normally, the clinicians check your vision, then dilate your pupils. On this occasion, however, the examiner, usually employed in the glaucoma section, was substituting in the examining rooms. Because Marian is farsighted, she elected not to do the dilation because of a natural tendency to look out for glaucoma in farsighted people. Marian says that no one had ever delayed dilation before and her vision had not changed much since her last appointment.

When the eye-doctor saw the patient, he diagnosed an irregularity and said that if Marian's eyes had been dilated, she would have experienced an acute attack of closed-angle glaucoma on the spot with nausea, vomiting, severe pain, possible loss of vision, and other complications. He immediately referred her to a glaucoma specialist who said that the canal in the eye that allows fluid to drain (thus preventing glaucoma) was almost 100% blocked in one eye and 80-90% blocked in the other. In the one eye there was already minimal damage indicating that she was "in trouble."

Marian was able to have surgery on each eye within a short time and should be fine from now on. The doctor thought she had probably been walking around with the condition for about a year. Marian instantly recognized God's intervention in her situation by the "assigning" of the substitute glaucoma technician to conduct her routine eye examination - but in a different and ultimately significant way.

Marian Oliver also experienced a profound intervention in the timing of her father's death. Living in Maryland, he called on a Saturday to tell her that he was having side effects from the radiation therapy for prostate cancer. "If ever I needed you to come, now's the time." Though she was scheduled to attend a pastor's retreat at Mainstay Ministries, she was able to work out that she could fly out to her parents' home on Monday, using free passes from a friend who was a United Airlines employee. About five hours after she arrived home, Marian's father suddenly died.

She says, "I saw God at work in moving my heart to go (I had been sick) and in allowing me to get there before he died, because if Mom had had to face this situation alone with her advanced Alzheimer's, I can't even imagine what she would have done or how the situation would have been handled. I just can't imagine."

Gail MacDonald writes about meetings she and her husband, Gordon, conducted overseas. The response of the couples being taught under the circumstances and the freedom to teach are all indicators of God's help to do his work in the world.

Our time in Germany was equally amazing. We came away so heartened by the power of God's Spirit to come and open hearts, bring couples together and change us all. But, it happened. Speaking through a translator is challenging, but we quickly got our rhythm and made it a fun time too. At the end we were shocked when they told us that 97% of the 70 couples who came bought all 5 tapes. Who would buy tapes where you are speaking through a translator?

This was a sign to us that God came and will continue the work he began there. Gordon and I had such a tenderness with each other, and things we hadn't planned on saying just flowed between us back and forth like a lovely dance.

Joel Mains remembers this amazing story from his days as a film student at Columbia Performing Arts School in Chicago.

I had given my final film project to a student friend to hand into my professor so I was shocked when I received a B grade and was told that my last project hadn't been turned in. Checking this out, I discovered that in my haste, I had torn off the unused film, then mistakenly given my edited film project to another student who was finishing his senior project, thinking it was the extra unused film.

When I explained this to my professor (he had the empty film half), he gave me back the unused film and said I could try to complete my project and raise my final grade. The editing studio was only available for certain times, this was a commuter campus, and the students who were supposed to give me a ride into the city so that I could use the suite to reedit my project were an hour and a half late in picking me up.

All I could do was pray and say, "Lord, you are going to have to help me do 8 hours of work in 6 hours."

However, because I was late, I ran into the film major to whom I had given (what I thought) was the canister of unused film. I could not have run into him earlier. I told him my sad tale and we ran over to his apartment in the city. Low and behold, he had not filmed over my project. There was my edited work - complete, unspoiled, with the torn end perfectly matching the torn end of the empty film that had been turned into the professor.

Not only did I avoid spending 6 hours in the editing suite, but I had the proof in the matching torn ends that the story I had told was a true story.