God is always up to something. Days, weeks, or months may pass without us being aware that God is at work in the ordinary stuff of our lives-in hidden and mysterious ways, as well as in perfectly obvious and unmistakable ways. God is Alive! presents a collection of personal stories that illustrate how God is really at work in today's world. Shared by members of the Pilgrim Covenant Church in Granby, Connecticut, the stories reveal true, everyday encounters with God through personal trials, private journeys, uncanny events, unexpected blessings, special signs, and miraculous comfort in times of pain. God is Alive! includes a diverse offering of beyond-coincidence experiences that reflect common themes of new hope and healing, uplifted spirits, and peace that passes understanding-all blessings from a living God. From momentous occasions to seemingly insignificant events, God is Alive! communicates the redemptive presence of God. The stories demonstrate God's unmistakable love, providential care, and gentle hand in every part of our lives.

GOD IS ALIVE!

True Stories of God's Active Presence in Our LivesBy KAREN STANHOPE GERALD GAYLORD JOANNE DESROSIERS HAROLYN PINSON

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Pilgrim Covenant Church of Granby
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-2512-1

Contents

Foreword......................................xiPreface.......................................xiiiAcknowledgments...............................xvGod's Voice...................................1The Kindness of Strangers.....................37Healing.......................................59Comfort.......................................93Signs.........................................133Inspirational Words...........................149Everyday Grace................................165Afterword.....................................195

Chapter One

The Warning

My home in Florida was a semitropical haven near the Indian River. Located on an old Native American footpath that weaves along the shore (now a narrow paved road), my 3.8 acres had previously been a plant nursery. As a result, it was graced by established purple fig trees, ferns, tall palms, laurel trees, banana trees, wild ginger, and a few huge oaks covered with hanging Spanish moss. It was a historic place up the hill from a rustic store that hung over the river on Sabal palmetto palm tree trunks (on Palm Sunday parts of these fronds are used by local churches). On my deed, my house was called "Casa Loma Springs," which in Spanish means "house on a hill." And it was that: my house was on a hill on the east coast of Florida north of Cocoa.

A natural spring produced a freshwater running stream on the south property line. My children and I often watched the small minnows in the pond at the bottom of the hill where it widened some before it went into the salt water of the river through a pipe under the road. Our pond had an occasional large alligator looking for turtles or freshwater fish. We stocked it from the St. Johns River.

The spring that fed the stream was also the source of the water we used in our home. Our well was a shallow well, the point down into the spring perhaps seventeen feet. I could not get my riding Gravely tractor mower near the area around the well because it was very wet, and the skids would get stuck in the wet sand. As a result, the grass around the well grew tall, and I had to periodically cut it the old-fashioned way—by hand.

One sunny day I put on my flip-flops (rubber sandals), grabbed my slinging blade (a handheld grass cutter), and went down to cut the very tall grasses away from the well. On the way, I reflected ruefully that flip-flops are probably not the best footwear when slashing down grass.

I got started clearing the area around the well's pipe. Having done this many times, I'd become practiced in the fine art of slinging; however, it is still backbreaking work. The slinging blade has a long blade with a sharp edge on two sides, attached to a long wooden handle.

I was slinging hard, totally focused on my task, determined not to chop into my own toes, when I clearly heard a voice say, "Evil!"

I was immediately taken aback, and I actually stepped backward a little. I remember the thought flashed through my head, What was that all about?! Glancing down, I was stunned to see a coiled snake right in front of my nearly bare feet. The snake's tell tale pattern of yellow-bordered, light-centered diamonds left no doubt that it was an eastern diamondback rattlesnake, crotalus adamanteus—the largest venomous snake in North America. It had my feet fixed in its cold black eyes and was coiled to strike. (No, rattlesnakes don't always rattle before they strike.)

Having the perfect tool in hand, I used my slinging blade and chopped it hard! After ensuring my safety, I put the blade down, my heart pounding.

Reflecting on that voice, I noted that the word chosen to warn me was unusual for this modern day and time. Now, if I had wanted to warn someone that they were about to step on a snake, I would have yelled, "_____!" You guessed it: "Snake!" I think anyone I know would have done the same. Who would have called out, "Evil!"? Yet, this voice did.

I believe that choice of word reveals something about the speaker, whose voice could well have saved my life. The Lord's Prayer implores God to "deliver us from evil," and I had been delivered that day. I knew that God had spoken to me! Only God would speak to me using the word "evil." He knows that I hate that word.

You will know when God speaks to you. It will be very clear and precise, right on time, and on the exact second you need to hear him. For God loves us so! My eyes tear up when I think of this. I stand in awe of him.

—Ada May

An Encounter with God

In 1971 I began thirty-one years of private sector professional life. I was the principal owner and CEO of a rapidly growing business that operated large facilities in Hartford, Boston, and New York. I was the quintessential driven executive during that entire time. The last fifteen years were particularly frenetic and stressful. I ate, drank, and slept business development. Nothing else mattered nearly as much as "The Business." Not friends. Not family. Not God. I became enamored with the trappings of material success and came to enjoy them far too much for my own good. Worst of all, I became a "legend in my own mind."

Burned out, I sold the business in 2002. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, but I was sure that I had had enough of the rat race. My wife and I decided to build our dream home in Litchfield, Connecticut. Once the house was completed, I began to become antsy, restless. I spent hours thinking of ways to lead a fulfilled life, to contribute to the betterment of ...? But nothing ever took root or coalesced into a committed vision or plan of action. I drifted.

One Sunday morning in 2006, for an unknown reason, I attended the First Congregational Church of Litchfield. I began to attend regularly, and soon I joined a Bible study group. In several members of that group, I saw the fruits of the Spirit and began to seriously consider becoming a Christian. Still, I struggled with the notion of turning over control of my life to someone other than me.

August 18 was a hot but glorious day. Our property included part ownership of a fishing pond, and that day the bass in that pond got a real spanking! Late in the afternoon, I simply let the boat drift and began to "contemplate life." I prayed. Not a perfunctory ABC prayer, but a serious, contemplative communion with God ... my first ever.

I was startled when the drifting boat collided with the dock. Shaken from my reverie, I almost shouted at God, "What would you have me do?"

Without hesitation, God replied, "Serve me."

"What?" I asked.

"Serve me," God repeated.

I was certain it was God the instant he spoke. His voice was not thunderous. It had no unusual pitch or inflection, but no other sound was audible when God spoke to me; all other sound and motion momentarily ceased. Those two words, spoken twice, were all he said. I tried to get him to elaborate, to provide more detail, but to no avail.

Day by day, prayer by prayer, God is revealing what he meant. I pray that I can submit to and fulfill the plan he has for me.

—David W.

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