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| Stories of Modern Day Miracles | |
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If you know of a miracle that has taken place Within your family or among your friends, Please allow us to share it on this page. The miracles of God |
| "...With God all things are possible." (Mark 19:26) "I will exalt thee, I will praise thy name, for thou hast done wonderful things." (Isa. 25:1)  We do not place miracles above scripture nor do we require miracles in order to believe in and serve Christ for the Bible says, “...The just shall live by faith.” In fact, it's possible that those who are the most spiritual among us may never have personally experienced a miracle other than that of their own conversion and salvation. But at the same time and for reasons known only to God He does come down among us from time to time to bring to pass certain extraordinary events that can only be explained as being a miracle from God. If these extraordinary events are consistent with the teachings of scripture and they always will be if they come of God, then we should give God the glory for them. ---And that is the purpose of this page! Of course the greatest miracles of all are those that are in the spiritual realm. How wonderful are the words in the chorus: It took a miracle to put the stars in place; It took a miracle to hang the world in space. But when He saved my soul, Cleansed and made me whole, It took a miracle of love and grace! May the miracles of God shared on this page (and others that are forthcoming) help all of us to give glory to God. I also believe that we should try to share any personal knowledge we may have of miracles so that others may give God glory as well. Feel free to print off your favorite stories from this page to share with others as God gives you the opportunity to do so. Also, please email us with information on miracles that you personally know about along with your permission to share them (on this page and perhaps in other ways and places as well) as God gives us the opportunity to do so. elmer@Hefirstlovedus.com THE FOLLOWING MIRACLE STORIES WILL BE ROTATED EACH WEEK. NEW ENTRIES WILL BE FIRST ON THE LIST  God Hears the Prayer of the Boy in TroubleMy first recollection of God hearing my prayer goes back to the time when as a bare-footed lad I lived with my parents on a farm. A few days before I had been presented with my first jack-knife, in those times quite an era in a boy’s life. That morning, while playing in the pasture, I had lost the precious knife and had spent over two hours in a fruitless search for the same. When my mother called me in to dinner my heart was too full of sorrow over my loss to care for any. It flashed into my mind that the Lord knew where that knife was, then why not ask Him to show me where it was? The only prayer that I knew up to that time was my evening prayer that I always repeated on my knees by my bed before retiring. That was the only place for prayer that I knew, so while the family were at dinner, I slipped into my bedroom and kneeling by my bed I poured out to the Lord my trouble and asked Him to lead me to where the lost knife lay. I got up from my knees, dried my tears, and with full confidence that I would find that knife, ran out again into the pasture, and walked straight to where I picked up the knife, about twenty-five yards into the field. I was too young to understand the theology of prayer, but I well remember that that day I had an overwhelming sense of the fact that God was interested in a boy’s troubles, and my heart was filled with gladness. ---R.L.E. Rescued from a Rooster ... and a TeacherWhen I was in the first or second grade I remember finding a baby squirrel that had fallen out of a tree. I placed the squirrel in a shoe box surrounded with soft rags so it would feel comfortable and I took it to school to show it off. I think maybe the squirrel was probably getting too much attention because our teacher said she thought it was getting sick and told me that I should take it back home. She also made it very clear that I was to hurry and get back to school right away. Our house was at the edge of town and I thought I would take a short cut and go across the field rather than taking the street home as I normally did. I really thought I would be in big trouble if I did not obey my teacher and get back to school right away. All went well until I crossed the field and came into our back yard. A mean rooster saw me and chased me up a tree. This rooster had flogged me more than once in the past and I knew that he meant business. I stayed in the tree for what seemed to be a very long time. Then I figured that the rooster may have forgotten me for he was quite a distance away. I slowly climbed down the tree and tried to sneak my way to the house but the rooster saw me and chased me back up into the tree. I don’t remember how many times this happened but I do remember being very worried about what my teacher would do when I came back to school late. I thought she might send me to the principal and I’d get a paddling. In my desperation I decided to pray. As far as I can remember no one had ever taken me to church or Sunday School and no one had ever talked to me about God. I remember trying to figure out what God looked like. I figured He must be very big. Here’s what I prayed: “God, please make it snow very hard so this rooster will run back into the chicken coup and I can get this squirrel in the house and get back to school right away.” And I remember adding...”If you will do this I’ll pray every day.” Well, believe it or not, God did what I had requested. Just as soon as I finished my prayer the wind started blowing very hard and in my mind’s eye I can still see the snow coming, a little at first and then a lot of it. It was one of those horizontal snows that we sometimes see on a very windy day in the winter (but it wasn’t winter when I prayed this prayer; maybe Fall but not winter). And I can still see that rooster and a lot of other chickens running very fast into the chicken coup. I quickly took the squirrel into the house and ran back to school (by way of the street, not the field) and I didn’t even get into trouble with my teacher. I don’t remember her saying anything. Did I keep my promise to pray every day? Yes, for about three days I remember getting between the garage and a fence where no one could see me and I prayed. After that I’m sorry to say that I forgot, but how wonderful it is to know that God did not forget me. —Elmer Winner When I Stopped to PrayWhen four year old Charles Odam, a neighbor's son, strayed from home, everyone in our heavily wooded, rural area pitched in to look for him. After checking out a big, deep spring I climbed the mountainside, calling the boy and listening. No answer. At the top of the mountain, green moss grew in a thick carpet on the woodland floor and late afternoon sunlight glimmered through the trees. I dropped to my knees and prayed to God for His help. Raising my head, I noticed a faint trail I had never seen before just a path used by forest animals. An enticing trail for a little boy! But it ended where someone had cut logs. No sign of Charles there. The sun was going down. Time to go back. Just then I heard a wild animal's cry, a little "miaow" like a bobcat's kitten. Again it came. I peered through some bushes. There was Charles! He'd cried till He could only make that funny little sound. He locked his arms around my neck and I carried him all the way home. On the way I thought about the hidden trail. What if I hadn't bowed my head to pray? --- shared by Nadine Moody, found in His Mysterious Ways and published by Revell …So, he lived another 53 years!Okie V. Boyer was born on February 11, 1877 in Vinton County, Ohio, and became a Pickaway County centenarian. He celebrated his 106th birthday in Circleville where he had made his home for many years. He was the father of eight children. Ethel Boyer and Maneva Ross, his daughters with whom he lived, took good care of him. He stayed alert and never had much illness. In his younger days, Mr. Boyer worked at several different occupations. He worked as a sawyer, was a coal miner, a carpenter, the caretaker of a cemetery, a painter, and a beekeeper, to name a few. He enjoyed gardening into his 90’s. The Lord started convicting Mr. Boyer of his sinful way of living. When he was 53 years old, he went to an old oak tree to pray. He was determined not to leave until he was saved. After his conversion, he asked the Lord to give him as much time to serve Him as he had spent serving Satan. God granted his request. So, he lived another 53 years! When he fell ill to a virus, knowing that his prayer had been answered, he told his daughters to let him go. In his own bed at home, he raised his arms in the air and motioned for Jesus to come and get him. He entered into his eternal reward on May 20th, 1983. Mr. Boyer attributed his longevity to following the biblical principle in Deuteronomy 5:16. “Honour thy father and thy mother, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.” ---Shared by a granddaughter, Bea Boltenhouse and a great-grandson, Keith Stevenson Can God Heal a Duck?My husband and I were saved November 5, 1961. On Easter, 1964 our son was around 4. His grandmother gave him and his little sister two baby ducks, so in our small back yard was 1 dog, 7 little puppies, 2 little kittens, 2 little ducks, and 2 little children. One day during the following Fall our dog tried to have our son's duck for lunch. The dog had broken down the duck's back and chewed the duck's legs. Our son found his duck lying on the ground, alive, but it couldn't get up or walk. I explained to him that the duck was suffering and we were going to have to put it out of its misery. Today I can still recall the look in those big blue eyes with tears, as our son looked me straight in the eyes and said, "but, Mommy., can't God heal my duck?" I answered him as honestly as I could that I didn't know, but we could go into his bedroom, kneel and pray and tell God how very important this duck was to this little boy and would He please heal the duck. As the kids were put to bed that night again our son asked God to heal his duck in his I-lay-me-down-to-sleep prayer. Before I went to bed, I just had to look out into the yard to see what God was doing, "that's the human part of, no." The duck was still lying in the same spot our son had found it in. He had given it corn and water, but the duck still couldn't move. The next morning at 5:00 a.m. I heard a very loud quack and it just kept getting louder. This was their usual feeding time. When I looked out the door both ducks were standing there quacking their heads off. In fact, they looked like they had a smile on their faces. You could not see one mark on the injured duck, so during the night, God healed a duck. God knew in this family's lifetime we would have to claim the faith of healing and miracles over and over again, and if you would ask this family about healing we would tell you God healed a duck. I've told this story to people before that if God loved a little boy so much to heal his duck how much more he loves you and me. As grownups we have to find the little child in each of us and just believe. We need to let Jesus take us in his arms, put his hand on us and bless us, and remember…and God healed a duck. ---Shared by good friends, Bud and Kay Hampton WONDROUS MYSTERYSometimes fact is more mysterious than fiction! The "Denver Post"printed an article December 23, 1981 about a stranger-than-fact event that occurred in Colorado. Stan Sieczkowski heard in church about a Denver family facing a rather bleak Christmas holiday. Medical bills robbed them of any extras; they would not even have a tree. So Stan and his son Jay determined to get them that tree. They headed up into the Colorado Rockies in the family pickup. However, the truck skidded off the icy road and hit a boulder that shattered the windshield. Jay was showered by glass slivers and suffered from shock and crash trauma. Stan was uninjured, though somewhat shaken. Cars sped past that day -- maybe 200 of them. Only two stopped. A gentle, dark-haired woman took the boy into her car to comfort him while her husband and another man helped Stan move his truck off the road. Then they drove father and son to Stan's home and quietly left without identifying themselves. Later that month, Stan's pastor asked if he might deliver a food basket to the unfortunate family for which he had earlier tried to cut a tree. Stan found the house, but he could hardly find his speech when the door opened. Standing there before him was the same couple who had helped him on the mountain road! ---Shared by Steve Goodier A LITTLE GIRLS PRAYERHelen Roseveare, a missionary doctor from England to Zaire Africa, shares the following true story. One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator. (We had no electricity to run an incubator.) We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. "All right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. "Your job is to keep the baby warm." The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children, "Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of a corollary, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?" As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, "Amen?" I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything. The Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas--that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the…could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out--yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle! I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!" Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly, Her eyes shone! She had never doubted. Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?" That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child--five months before--in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it that afternoon! "Before they call, I will answer!" Isa. 65:24 |