When Life Changes Course

God intervenes in our lives in very real, very direct, and very visible ways. They aremoments when something happens, big or small, that causes a Course Change.

You experienced a Moment of Grace when you picked up this book.

There are many ways that The Divine moves in our lives, especially when we open to thepossibility of miracles. Once we have unlocked the door in our psyche to the potentiality ofbeing touched by God in ways we could only imagine in our dreams, then those dreamsbegin to come true.

A few years ago I wrote a book called Conversations with God which captured attentionthroughout the world. I believe that book was directly inspired by God during Moments ofGrace. And I am very clear that I am not the only one receiving such inspirations andexperiencing such moments. For if Conversations with God taught us anything, it is thatGod talks to all of us, all of the time. Yet we can hear God only when we are open tolistening.

Let those who have ears to hear, listen.

But now here is the startling news. God not only has conversations with us, God visits usevery day, in person.

This book is all about such visits. It will create a course change in your life because it isabout real people, just like you. It is not the story of masters or gurus or saints or sages,but about ordinary folk who have had a "run in with God"—and never forgot it. Because itis about real people living lives just like yours and mine, it is very convincing on thequestion of whether there is Another Force at work in our lives.

In my own mind that Force is called God. You may call it anything you wish. Whatever youcall it—coincidence, serendipity, synchronicity, luck, intuition, inspiration—you will find itvery difficult, after reading this book, to deny that it is there. Right there. In our lives. Everyday. Working miracles. Making magic. Changing everything.

It happens in everyone's life. Janice Tooke, 43, of Herkimer, New York, says it happenedin her life this way ...

My 11-year-old son and I were on our way downstate to camp and sail on the HudsonRiver. During the two-hour drive we listened, as we always do when we are in the cartogether, to Conversations with God.

On this warm sunshine-filled August afternoon we noted that we had seen many, manymonarch butterflies during our trip. Feeling full of light and love as we sailed lazily along, Ienvisioned Jesus in my mind, standing in a field, arms outstretched, calling forth manybutterflies. They came as bidden, orange and black and beautiful, and covered him fully,alighting on his arms, his hands, and his head. It was a beautiful image, and it broughtcalmness to my heart.

Feeling in that moment that I was one with God, I also imagined myself calling forth thebutterflies in much the same manner. It was a beautiful moment in my mind. I wanted it tocontinue. I wanted it to never end.

Then my human doubts crept in. Maybe I'm making it all up, I thought. All these feelingsand visions are nothing but creations of my own imagination. I felt frustrated. I wishedthere was some way that I could know that God is real, and that I am part of Him.

At that moment, I asked God to show me a sign and reveal Himself to me in a tangibleway during this trip. I didn't want to have to wait any longer. I wanted it to happen duringthis trip, right here, right now. I even used "I Am" words to call it forth. I said, "I Am going tobe given a sign."

That evening we camped on an island. The next morning brought a beautiful sunrise tothe river. The sunshine sparkled off the water into my eyes as I shook myself awake.While I sat at the picnic table watching waves on the beach, a large monarch butterflyswooped own out of nowhere and began dancing in front of my face. It startled me as itcircled once around the top of the tent in which my son was still sleeping.

I immediately said, "Oh, how beautiful you are. Come and see me!" Reaching out myhand, I watched, astonished, as the butterfly alit there!

It was so beautiful! Its orange and black wings were huge and perfect, and it sat still forseveral seconds there in the palm of my hand. My son awoke hearing my voice, andsticking his head out of the tent, saw the butterfly on my hand.

We were both amazed.

Of course, I knew who sent this gift. I have the knowing because I called it forth. And Iknow that I can call it forth, and that we all can, in moments of gratitude and praise, andpure at-one-ment with All That Is.

Now if you're not careful you could look right past the magnificence of that moment. Oryou could agree that it was kind of neat, but that it proved nothing, and that Janice isstretching things to say that it did.

But what would you tell Bill Colson, of Ogden, Utah?

My father's breathing had become difficult, labored. He'd been lingering between life anddeath for days. The whole family was there, keeping the vigil.

Wracked by cancer, Dad's weakened body—which seemed to be disappearing right infront of our eyes—shook now and then with what I could only assume were spasms ofpain. He'd gone past any ability to complain about it, not having spoken a word, noropened his eyes, in 72 hours.

"My God," my mother said softly at one point, sitting at the side of his bed, "how long canthis go on?"

It was after one o'clock in the morning, and the poor dear was exhausted. We all were. Butthey'd been married 61 years, and there was nothing and no one going to take Mom awayfrom that bedside now.

That's when I had my conversation with God.

"Must he suffer like this?" I asked Him, silently, urgently, in my heart. "He's been a goodman, God. And he's finished his work here. There's nothing left undone, there's nothingmore to complete. Please. Won't You take him now? Won't You stop his pain? If You'rehere, God—and I know You are—please, let this end."

At that instant, Dad's breathing became less labored. Within three minutes he slippedaway. Gently. Like falling into a deeper sleep.

My eyes filled with tears. I never doubted God before. I'll certainly never, ever doubt Himagain.

Coincidence? Synchronicity? I don't think so.

A Moment of Grace? Yes.

Moments of Grace are those times when God intervenes in our lives in very real, verydirect, and very visible ways. They are moments when something happens, big or small,that causes a Course Change.

You experienced a Moment of Grace when you picked up this book.

There Are Many Mansions

Bill Tucker learned the lesson of faith thirty years ago, a lesson he has never forgotten. Hehas called upon it many times to remind himself that nothing is impossible. Only one thingis required. Belief.

In those days Bill had never sold a house, although he had an agent's license andmanaged a real estate office. He would often stay late in the evenings to be available tothe agents coming in from their evening showings. It was his responsibility to review theoffers to purchase, and he didn't want to hold up any deals—or lose any—by not beingavailable on the spot.

Ten o'clock, however, was late enough for any office to be open, he decided one night ashe glanced at his watch and yawned. I'm heading home, he told himself. I'm calling it anight. But then he heard voices coming from the front of the office. I must have forgottento lock the door, he told himself as he rose to investigate.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to the young couple he found standing at the counter, "the officeis closed." They were a diminutive pair—she barely five feet tall and he only slightlyhigher. Two small children hovered shyly behind them.

"Well, the lights are on," the small woman observed. "And you're here, aren't you?" sheadded sweetly.

"Yes," Bill answered, "but, you see, I'm the manager, not an agent. I'm just waiting for theagents to return so that I can close up for the night."

"We're the Johnsons ... Ted and Amy. We need to buy a home tonight, so you will haveto help us," she insisted.

"Why tonight, Mrs. Johnson?" Bill asked.

She took a breath. "Because we have to move in tomorrow." It was all Bill could do to stopfrom rolling his eyes.

"That's impossible, madam," he smiled patiently. "First of all, even if you were to find ahouse you like at this time of night, we would have to submit an offer to the owner. Thenwe'd have to wait for a possible counter offer. After that, you have to apply to the bank fora mortgage. The house has to be appraised, and the bank must qualify you. There isabsolutely no way you can move into a house in less than six weeks."

There, that should explain it adequately enough, he thought. People never failed to amazeBill. He chuckled inwardly. Did she actually think she could march in here at ten o'clock atnight and get anywhere with this ridiculous notion?

He opened his mouth to suggest that perhaps she should come back tomorrow so that hecould introduce her to an agent who might be able to help her, but Mrs. Johnsonapparently had other ideas.

"Oh, it won't be any problem at all. We'll be able to buy a house tonight," she said.

Okay, Bill thought. Maybe they have the cash for a house. That, of course, would certainlyexpedite the process. "Oh? Why is that?" he asked politely in response.

"Because I asked God to give us a home by morning, and He never lets me down."

"I see. Well, even if I had an agent available, it's way too late tonight to look at anything."

She didn't seem to get his point. "You are licensed, aren't you?" she persisted.

Bill answered that he was. "But I've never sold a home and am not expert enough at thisfor you to trust."

"You believe in God, don't you?"

Bill smiled indulgently. "Sure. On that issue there's no question. But ..."

She interrupted, "Do you believe in miracles?"

"Well ... yes." Bill had, in fact, experienced many of what he considered to be amazingoccurrences in his life.

Mrs. Johnson drew herself up, stuck out her chest, and said, "Look. I prayed today andasked God to give me a home ... um, could we just sit down?" Bill nodded, pointing to acouple of seats in front of an agent's desk. He sat in the chair behind it. "I asked God," thewoman went on, "to give us a home that we could move into by morning."

Bill's eyebrows shot up.

"We have nowhere to live," Mrs. Johnson said simply. "We thought we'd bought a houseon contract from a little old lady here in the city that agreed to finance it for us. We're fromabout two hundred miles north, but my husband just found a job here, so we packed upand moved. When we arrived, the lady wasn't out yet ... and when we asked her whenshe would be leaving, she said she wasn't going to be leaving. She thought she wasmaking a deal with us to live with her. So, she's put us up in her basement."

Bill whistled softly, shaking his head. "That's a very strange tale," he offered. In his twentyyears in business he'd heard lots of horror stories, and this one qualified for a place nearthe top of the list.

Mrs. Johnson continued, "Of course, we can't live in this lady's basement. We have ourchildren here. We've been washing daily at the gas-station restroom down the street.Tonight I asked God for a miracle because we can't go on like this. So we've been drivingaround looking for an open real-estate office. And here you are!"

Through the front window Bill could see the couple's old, beat-up car in the parking lot."How much money do you have for a down payment?" He almost didn't want to hear theanswer.

"Oh, we don't have any money at all. Ted has been unable to work for the past ten years.You see, he's a recovering alcoholic and we're getting a new start, but it's not easy. I'vebeen working parttime as a waitress."

This situation is getting worse, Bill thought. How in the world do they think they can buy ahome with no money?

"You've been supporting your family on a waitress's salary? Why were you only workingpart-time?" Bill wondered aloud.

"I had to," Mrs. Johnson explained, "in order to volunteer at my church. That's important tome. But we get by ... that's not the problem. The problem is, we have nowhere to live.

And you know, we're not picky. We'll take the least expensive house we can find."

"Why not just find some place to rent?" Bill suggested. "Get back on your feet, pull somemoney together, and save for a place."

"We've been renting for years," the woman dismissed. "It's time we had a place of ourown. And we can, with God's help. Look how he brought us to you!"

Yeah, well, good luck, lady, Bill thought. At the same time, he was intrigued by the strongfaith this woman was exhibiting. And, he mused, who was he to interfere with her miracle?He took out his multiple-listings book. Might as well at least see what there is to see, hetold himself with an inward sigh.

"Well, here's one for $54,000. It's not in the nicest part of town, but it's a pretty low price.How much will your husband be making in his new job?"

Mr. Johnson had been quiet up to this point, but now he spoke up.

"I'm darned lucky to have a job at all. I'm starting as a janitor tomorrow, making six bucksan hour."

Bill looked askance at both of them. "That's not much," he observed. Getting out hiscalculator, he punched in a few numbers. "Less than $12,500 a year."

The man nodded.

Bill said, "The most you can afford on that salary is a $36,000 house. There just aren't anyhouses in that price range. And even if there were, the bank is going to require a downpayment. All this is very unlikely, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson."

"But, you said you believed in miracles," Mrs. Johnson said quietly.

"Yes," Bill smiled meekly, "but I didn't say I could perform them."

The couple only stared at him. Okay, he thought. I'll just have to prove how impossible thisis going to be. He picked up the phone and dialed the realtor listing the house he'd justtalked about. "We'll make an offer," he said, but he already knew what the outcome wouldbe.

The realtor was delighted with the call at first. Bill saw from the listings book that thehouse had been on the market for over a year, so he expected this reaction. But when therealtor heard that the offer was $36,000, Bill got the second reaction he'd expected. Shebecame indignant. Bill had to insist that she convey the offer to the owner, reminding herof the law stating that all bona fide offers must be presented.

A few moments later, the realtor called back. "The owner has a counter offer," she said,less annoyed now that at least some kind of deal seemed possible. "It's a good one. Forty-fivethousand dollars. I think you should take it."

"Thank you," Bill replied sincerely. "But let me explain the situation here. My clients haveno money put aside, and they earn no money to speak of. They'll be lucky to find a bankthat will loan them the thirty-six thousand, much less forty-five. We'll keep the negotiationsgoing with a reply of $36,500."

"I'm sure my owner won't accept that," the woman realtor said matter-of-factly.

Bill replied, "You don't have the right to make that assessment. You're required to presentour counter-counter offer." He was starting to get into the spirit of things. This might be aninteresting exercise, after all.

The realtor rang back in five minutes. "I've made the offer and the owners are willing tohave me show the house. We think that when the buyers see it, they'll want to meet ourprice."

"I don't think they can," Bill told her again.

"I've seen stranger things happen," the selling realtor said. "Let's show the house."

"Okaaay," Bill agreed, and said goodbye. He told the Johnsons what was up. They just satthere, smiling. Bill could hardly believe they'd gotten this far. Of course, in the morningthey would all understand the futility of this exercise, but that was part of the real-estatebusiness. They were nice people, and he was willing to go through the process with themuntil they got the picture.

The next morning as Bill drove to the house, he was unhappily imagining what it wouldmost probably look like. It was, after all, the cheapest house on the market and in the veryworst part of town. The street was full of potholes. Abandoned cars and unkempt lawnswere everywhere. Bill sighed as he pulled up to a modest front gate.

The selling realtor was waiting for him, the Johnsons standing with her, looking hopeful.He dreaded how sad they were going to be. Bill was glad his job didn't usually entailselling houses and having to sometimes be the instrument of people's disappointment.

As the realtor swung open the gate, Bill caught his breath. The little house was lovely! Mr.and Mrs. Johnson smiled broadly. It was an adorable red-and-white Cape Cod, completewith dormers and shutters on all the windows. When they entered through the front door,Bill noted new carpet and linoleum. All the woodwork had been stripped and stained, therewere new appliances and brand new cabinetry in the tiny kitchen. The house wasimmaculate and fully decorated with new furniture, which would be going with this house,in all the rooms. It was a jewel!

"We'll take it!" Mrs. Johnson blurted happily.

"Great. Let's drive over to the owner's home and conclude the negotiations," the realtorbeamed.