Over the past few years there have been a lot of signs to me that God is real and that he’s helping me. Some of them are small and some of them are quite significant. I want to share them with people but most people in my life are secular and will probably just treat me like I’m crazy. So here’s what happened:
Several years ago when I was first coming back to my faith, it was early summer and I had spent a whole day outside thinking about my faith, God, Jesus, the universe, life, etc. It was the first day that I really started to take it seriously.
I had been wanting a white bow for my hair for weeks. I decided to go later that day to buy one. Right after I’d made that decision, I looked down and there on the ground was a packaged white bow. It was pristine and beautiful, not disheveled by the wind or dirty from being on the ground. No one was around. The parking lot where I was was empty. I kept it and I still wear it. It’s still beautiful.
Approximately 2 weeks after I found the bow, the same thing happened again, but with a pair of white sneakers. I had wanted them for some time but I couldn’t afford them. I was biking next to a train track, far from any buildings or houses and there on the ground was a pristine, unworn, uncreased, clearly new pair of white sneakers- the exact kind I’d wanted. No one was around and I knew it would rain soon so I kept them. They felt like a gift.
About a month after I found the bow, I was in the woods picking up garbage, thinking about how taking care of the earth relates to faith and giving back to God. As I was thinking these things and considering my faith, I looked down and found a ring on the ground with a cross on it, nestled between some forest floor bits and rather hard to spot, as the light was fading. I took it as a sign and another gift and I still have that too.
The first time I tried asking for something significant, I got it. I understood that God’s will is always for the best, whether it’s what I want or not. I thought about that quite deeply and I truly accepted whatever God’s response would be, but I asked anyway that my grandfather’s post-surgical issue be resolved so that he could live a little longer (even though I understand that we all must eventually die).
God intervened and my grandfather was ok. The nurses were shocked that the problem resolved so immediately and so completely. It did not seem likely. I knew what had happened and I told him and he thanked me. I think it started to bring him back to his faith too, as he had also stopped praying the rosary before that.
There was a point 2 years ago when I almost died in a domestic violence situation. I was in a battered womens’ shelter and a woman was telling me that she was in a house that was “haunted”. She called several people in front of me who corroberated what she described them all seeing and they seemed afraid to even be talking about it.
She told me that when they’d had Catholic mass playing on the television in their home, the activity stopped. Then she told me that she thought she, herself, was possessed and that someone claims to have seen a black entity over top of her head. When she told me that, I felt really scared of her and at that moment, the television in the shelter changed to Catholic mass. By itself. The remote was sitting in the middle of the table in front of us. There were only 3 people in the room and none of us could have reached it and I was looking right at them.
When I was fighting to get an apartment during the housing crisis and I was in an abusive relationship and needed to somehow secretly get out without a job, while disabled, with ptsd, with a dog, without a roommate, and no car, I got an apartment.
I had to sneak out to do viewings and take phonecalls. I finally found somewhere. I was in competition with a lot of other people. I’d been in for multiple interviews and it was 10pm and they still hadn’t picked someone yet.
I was sitting in the park because I couldn’t be at home. I knew I’d die if I didn’t get the apartment and that I was running out of time. I was crying hysterically into the grass, in the dark and I said: “Please help me, please help me God! Are you going to help me? Are you going to help me God?!” And then the phone rang and they gave me the apartment. A moment after I asked God if he was going to help me, he did. That was the first moment I was positive that he wasn’t going to let me die and that he wanted me to know.
I haven’t been able to walk very well for 4 years. Now I can. I don’t know why. I didn’t do any of my physio exercises (I know I should) and it had previously just been getting worse and worse and now for seemingly no reason it’s getting better. I asked God if I could be able to walk again and I can.