tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23927977348595588232024-03-14T02:46:31.840-07:00Angel StoriesStories of The Inexplicable and the Miraculous, angels, angels all around us, miracles, miraculous, Angel Stories, stories of angels, guardian angels, guardians, angel, angels, angelicBeth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-64875941882375083152018-12-14T12:17:00.000-08:002018-12-14T12:29:54.141-08:00Merry Christmas!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>When I was a little girl, </b>I could not figure out what all the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hoopla</span> was about Santa Claus. As a child I loved the romance and danger of the ancient story of Joseph
and Mary.<br />
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<b>I was intrigued by the wonderful announcement</b> of the singing angels to the shepherds and the tiny
baby miraculously conceived. Then there were wise men who followed a
shining star to where the child lived. They brought him wonderful exotic
gifts.<br />
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<b>There was even a jealous, deceitful king </b>who sought after the child's
life--yet miraculously, through the intervention of angels, the family
escaped certain death.<br />
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<b>I am still filled with awe and wonder </b>as I consider the mystery and beauty of that wonderful old story.<br />
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<b>Merry Christmas sweet Friends.</b> May the beauty and mystery of the season
fill your hearts with joy! </div>
Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-30310345556190401272018-12-07T14:55:00.000-08:002018-12-13T12:44:16.175-08:00Angel Unhinged<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>This Angel Story was sent by my delightful Sister Clytie</b>. Here is the story in her own words.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>When I was first married,</b> I drove a 1972 Datsun 2000 Roadster hard-top convertible. I rarely drove with the top down, because it entailed a great deal of work to get it off and stored. One of the hinges actually had to be removed with a crowbar, although the other side was so loose, it would sometimes fall down at odd times, with a loud "BAM!"<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>I frequently drove to Pendleton, Oregon</b>, to visit my husband's grandparents - a four hour trip. On one occasion I was traveling by myself through the Columbia Gorge, my little car fully loaded for the weekend trip. I was tired, and the trip was long and boring, with no stereo or radio to divert my attention...<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Suddenly, a loud "BAM!" </b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>I woke up, realizing I had drifted off to sleep</b> and was swiftly heading toward a very steep embankment, a vertical rock wall in front of me! I was shocked awake and shakily headed my little car back to the highway. I took the next exit and sat for a while.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Only after I had calmed down </b>did I think to fix the hinge that woke me up. <i>But it was already hitched!!!</i> Astonished I looked at the other hinge - the one I needed a crowbar to undo, and there it was, hanging down ... undone. <i>I had to use all of my force to push it closed again! </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><i>How did this happen?</i> </b>I can only imagine an angel saw me falling asleep and flicked the hinge with an agitated finger to wake me up. I don't have any other explanation. I<i>n the entire time we owned the car the hinge on that side, only fell down that one time.</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>I, for one, am deeply grateful to God </b>for His protection of my sister as she drove that lonely road. I think about what my life would be without Clytie in it, and I am bereft. There is something so wonderful and beautiful about the sweet relationship between sisters.<br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-36494688915806415012018-02-15T18:26:00.002-08:002018-12-14T12:29:03.798-08:00Angel in the Kitchen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Dad had just passed away.</b> Mumsie was standing in the kitchen weeping into the sudsy water of the sink as she washed the dishes. She was filled with sadness and dark despair.<br />
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<b>As she tells it, </b><i><b>"I was in the kitchen doing the dishes, </b>when suddenly I heard a HUGE voice saying my name, "EVA!" </i><br />
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<i><b> I whirled around to see a giant angel </b>standing behind me. He wore orange and deep grey robes. On his head was a helmet and in his hands he held a great sword. He was enormous, at least twelve feet tall. </i><br />
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<i><b>"When I looked up into his eyes, </b>he smiled a sweet, crooked smile. Then he faded from my eyes. Fear flew away and my heart was suddenly peaceful. I knew that angel had been sent by God to strengthen me in my time of sorrow. I am so thankful for God's gift of comfort."</i><br />
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<b>Sometimes we are allowed to see </b>those whom God has sent to watch over us.<b> </b>When we are given that opportunity, it is a moment of unspeakable joy and surprise!<br />
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<b>Dear Friends, no matter what terrible burden, </b>or unmanageable situation you are facing just now, <i>you are not alone. </i><br />
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<i>T</i><i><b>he angel of the LORD encamps around </b>those who fear him, and he delivers them. </i><br />
~ Psalm 34:7 <i> </i><i><span class="p"></span></i><br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-91503286106085558232017-12-31T15:04:00.000-08:002018-12-14T12:27:31.263-08:00Angel at the All-You-Can-Eat Buffet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Long ago a dear little girl </b>told me the following true story.<br />
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<b>She was on a trip, far from home</b>. As a treat the family stopped at an all-you-can-eat restaurant buffet for dinner.<br />
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<b>They had a wonderful time</b>. There was a lot of laughter and goofing off whenever they would stop to eat together--but this time was extra special. She had finished her plate, but was still hungry so she decided to get seconds--after all--it said "all you can eat."<br />
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<b>As she stood in line, </b>a tiny wrinkled man in a brown suit, wearing a dapper hat stood next to her.<br />
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<b>When she glanced at him,</b> his eyes twinkled. Holding her gaze, he said kindly, "My dear, someday you will need to make some hard choices in your life." He told her she would need to choose wisely.<br />
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<b>She glanced down for a moment,</b> wondering what he meant.<br />
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<b>To her surprise when she looked back up--he was gone. </b>There wasn't a trace of him anywhere--and there was no way he could have walked away without being seen.<br />
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<b>An angel?</b> Perhaps he gave this small girl words of wisdom to remember in the future?<br />
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<b>I am sure this must have been so</b>. He was an angel, clothed as a human, sent to give a special blessing to a tiny girl with a beautiful heart. I have it on good authority she never forgot that meeting, or the advice he gave. <br />
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<b>Blessings to each of you this new year.</b> It comes full of possibilities and miracles. God's helpers are all around. <i>You are not alone. </i><br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-21630224233030983322017-12-23T12:01:00.003-08:002018-01-23T19:45:56.263-08:00Wood Angels, Sweater Angels and Angels Knitting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>I will always be astonished when God sends His angels </b>to minister, often before we know our own need. I should not be surprised--but I never cease to feel awe when He provides in miraculous ways.<br />
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<b>A little over a month ago</b><i>,</i> two cords of firewood were dumped on my driveway. I had a couple month's worth out back, but had been fretting over not having enough wood to get through the winter. It was a sudden gift, when my adopted Bro Larry called to say he was coming by with that firewood!<br />
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<b>What I didn't realize was a month later</b> my main gas furnace would give up completely--during the coldest temperatures we'd had so far. This old house, built in 1896, was incredibly chilly. God knew I would need that firewood and sent Larry my way.<br />
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<b>Then just before the furnace gave out,</b> my wee sister Wendy sent a Christmas gift. "Open it when you get the box," she said. "There's something inside I think you'll need." <br />
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<b>Said she with a giggle, when I called to tell her of my predicament </b>and how cold it was, "Well, I have a feeling you are going to love what I sent to you. She was right! She had knitted a beautiful maroon and green blanket--wonderfully thick
and warm. Such incredibly perfect timing--I slept under that throw with two more blankets, on the sofa next to the wood stove.<br />
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<b>The day the furnace gave out, I received a package</b> in the mail. It was a beautiful, soft, thick sweater from Dan and Judy.<br />
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<b>When I thanked Judy for the sweater</b> and spoke of the perfect timing of its arrival, she laughed and told me they'd ordered it several months before. <br />
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<b>God knew what was going to happen.</b> I lived and slept in that gloriously warm sweater for three weeks!<br />
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<b>These dear ones were God's own human angels. </b> And the perfect timing was <i>God's</i>. He provided before I was aware of the need I would have for the wood, that wonderful soft sweater and lovely hand-made blanket.<br />
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<b>I thank the Lord for those who pay attention</b> to the gentle promptings of God, for then miracles happen.<br />
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<b>Trust in God</b>--Look up! Expect a miracle! He cares for you.<br />
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<b>Merry Christmas dear one! </b>God is good!<br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-27784442206337141012017-03-27T12:00:00.000-07:002017-10-16T10:26:03.662-07:00Perfect Timing is God's Fingerprint<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>The last time I wrote here, </b>I'd just been on my third visit to the hospital emergency room where an MRI revealed that I needed a complete hip replacement. It is frightening to find that a part of one's body is strangely worn and isn't working anymore.<br />
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<b>Within three weeks of discovering I needed surgery </b>I was in the operating room. I felt the comfort of His angels all around me. I was not afraid.<br />
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<b>Recently I had a follow-up visit with the surgeon. </b>That's when I learned my surgery was to have been delayed until late October. The only reason I was able to get in so quickly, and with one of the best surgeons in this part of the country, is because there was an unexpected opening. <br />
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<b>Sometimes a series of events happen</b> in such a way it is obvious people are praying and God is answering their prayers. <i>Perfect timing is God's fingerprint, my Friends.</i> There is no such thing as coincidence, no matter how often some folks claim it is.<br />
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<b>Six months after surgery, I can run and dance</b>--astonishingly, by the end of October, I was well enough to speak at a Women's Retreat and had the joy of performing drama for various events in November and December.<br />
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<b>I am still thanking God</b> for His miraculous intervention.<br />
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<b>Have a lovely day--keep looking Up</b>. Dear ones, you know who you are...there are many many folks who are praying for you. God is good and He is watching out for you. <br />
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-15546668386692409952016-08-19T04:34:00.005-07:002017-05-12T19:37:22.021-07:00God's Gentle Care<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>For over 25 years, my family and I have performed drama and music</b> traveling across the US--and in honor of my husband, my children and God, I have continued on in that ministry. This Spring, I injured myself moving sets for the Easter play. At first I thought it would heal up on its own. But it didn't. I have been into the emergency room three times since May and have found it increasingly hard to walk without a cane. Though I must admit yesterday, when someone told me I look quite snazzy with a cane, I felt quite pleased. (grin) Haha!<b> </b><br />
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<b>The last visit to the ER was last week. The MRI revealed </b>the blood supply to my hip bone had been compromised, so a portion of the bone had died. That in itself was a shock. I wasn't expecting anything like that. The ER doctor referred me to a surgeon and I made an appointment with him right away.<br />
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<b>The surgeon recommended</b> hip replacement surgery as soon as possible. However, before surgery could be scheduled he needed a referral from a primary care doctor. (In the meantime, the joint could collapse or a life-threatening infection could set in. I'd already been running a low-grade fever.)<br />
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<b>I was REALLY frustrated.</b> I had been trying to find a primary care doctor in my "network" for over six months and could not find anyone accepting new patients. In fact, I had an appointment to be a new patient--but that was at the end of September.<br />
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<b>Out of the blue, a dear friend of mine recommended</b> I talk to an insurance agent here in town who helps people find good health care.<br />
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<b>Karen discovered the coverage I had was woefully inadequate</b>. She filled out an application for our state coverage and sent it in for me. What a blessing! She was wonderful--caring, warm and professional.<br />
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<b>Miraculously, within a week I was accepted</b>! I was blown away. It can take up to a year to get coverage--so I was floored, as was the young woman who called. She said this rarely happens and the fact it had was miraculous. She also informed me I was <i>already signed up with a primary care doctor</i>. The actual paperwork came in the mail on Thursday.<br />
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<b>Happily, I snagged the last appointment</b> of the week with the primary care doctor. The appointment was to welcome me as a new patient. Yesterday I had my first appointment with Doctor Andrea. She was great, was able to fill all my prescriptions, as well as sending a referral for surgery to the surgeon's office. It has only been 14 days since I first found out I needed a hip replacement. I am in awe.<br />
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<b>The sequence of events--how it all fell together--is miraculous. </b><i>Perfect timing is God's fingerprint.</i> I would appreciate your prayers and I will update you when I can. <b> </b><br />
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<b>Miracles are happening all around us.</b> We just need to take the time to look. (grin) Since my beloved husband flew away to heaven, I have been amazed and in awe at God's provision and gentle care.<br />
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<b>God bless you, dear ones</b>. May God's loving Presence surround you, as you walk the path of your life. Watch for His hand--He is always with us, working on our behalf.<br />
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-30551370985102945322015-08-18T14:58:00.006-07:002015-12-17T06:23:19.128-08:00Blessed are They Who Mourn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Early Thursday morning, October 30th, 2014, I lost the love of my life.</b> It has been nearly a year since Alan flew away to heaven.
I was blessed to share 31 wonderful years with this precious, creative man. I miss him more than I can put into words.<br />
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<b>Something beautiful happened </b>after my Beloved left us. I could not sleep those first few days--I kept reliving the moments he fought to live.<br />
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<b>I remembered giving Alan CPR</b> until the ambulance came...I
remembered counting, as I was pressing my hands against his heart, blowing
my breath into his lungs--his lips against mine. He had tried so hard to
come back to us. <b> </b><br />
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<b>A day later in the early morning hours, I lay on the sofa, my eyes closed, weeping</b>. It just didn't seem real. How could my world go on without him in it? Then suddenly a cool, sweet breeze slid across my
face...and I felt my Beloved's dear lips press softly against mine. <i>My husband kissed me goodbye.</i><br />
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<b>I am grateful for the astonishing memory of that last kiss</b>--His lips touching mine in love--a beautiful, miraculous good-bye from my Beloved. That memory is the one to which I cling. The love we shared was truly an extraordinary one. <br />
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<b>Alan was a servant of God and He loved people. </b>He wanted everyone to
know God loved them too, and so I am passing his message on to you dear
ones--<i>God loves you. He longs to know you, God wants to share His Son and the world He created for you--in a whole different way than
you've ever known.</i><br />
<i><br /><b>"Blessed are they who mourn,</b> for they shall be comforted."</i> Matthew 5:4<br />
<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-52033140752334048372014-10-21T10:51:00.000-07:002018-01-23T20:06:48.384-08:00The Columbus Day Storm of 1962<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Tis' getting cloudy and windy outside</b>, herald of a storm moving in tonight. It won't be near as bad as the storm which hit the Pacific Coast Columbus Day, October 12, 1962.<br />
<br />
<b>I was only
four, but I remember the sky overhead bubbling</b> like a pot of stew. The
clouds were an odd yellowish green color, and the trees swished with a
peculiar swinging motion.<br />
<br />
<b>Then Mom whisked my baby sister, little brother and me, with Zat the Canary</b>, into the house to stand in a corner next to<span class="text_exposed_show">
our big oak China buffet. </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="text_exposed_show"><b>As the wind began to howl, </b>Mom remembers she said, "Let's pray." My little brother and I instantly dropped to our knees. I don't remember praying,
but I do remember feeling totally safe--as though we were in a place where harm could not stray. </span> </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show"><b>In the living room, we watched the wind bend
the glass </b>of<b> </b>the wall-sized window inward, until it shattered into a
million pieces. All that glass flew past us, crashing out through the big
kitchen window. Miraculously we weren't touched. </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show"><b>Thinking back on my memories </b>from my child's eye view, I strongly remember the sense we were inside a warm bubble of protection. I wasn't afraid one bit.</span><br />
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<b>Then there was a lull in the storm. </b>We crawled out the back window of the bedroom and walked to the middle of the field between our house and my grandparent's home. The wind must have began again, but I don't remember feeling it against my face. From my child's perspective, though I could see the wind bending the trees so their tops nearly touched the earth, we were still standing inside a bubble of still air.<br />
<br />
<b>We remained in
the middle of the field for a long time. </b>Poor Mumsie was afraid to go inside my grandparents' place, because of what had just happened inside our house. Then we<b> </b>watched as Grandpa's two-story barn sagged to its
knees. Tons of hay blew out of the peak to hang in a giant hay ball in the sky--it
looked just like a huge bristling baseball. Then the top of our house
peeled back like a can of sardines and flew away.<br />
<br />
<b><b>It is amazing that everyone, including Zat the Canary </b></b>came through that storm in one piece. As a kid, standing inside that warm bubble, I loved it all. <br />
<br />
<b>After the storm, Mom and Grandma cooked dinner</b>
on the old wood stove. They had found meat in the freezer and had pulled fresh vegetables from the garden. The stew was hot and good.<br />
<br />
<b>In the days after the storm, </b>I have memories of sleeping in the living room listening to the music of rain
dripping into cans everywhere on the floor. We didn't get our
electricity back for quite awhile as I recall.<br />
<br />
<b>I hope we never have another storm like that one</b>--I think I would have more sense to be afraid now that I'm an adult!! Thinking back, I am grateful for that wonderful sense of protection. I am convinced God's mighty power kept us from harm that stormy day.<br />
<br />
<b>Funny thing, I've loved storms every since</b>. I suppose my heart still remembers how I felt as a child during that wild storm.<br />
<br />
<b>Here's a link to a great website with some extraordinary stories </b>of survival during the great Columbus Day Storm: <a href="https://www.tillamookcountypioneer.net/best-of-history-columbus-day-storm-memories-oct-12-1962/"><b>Memories of the Storm of 1962.</b></a></div>
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-42069354343579607622014-09-26T07:36:00.001-07:002018-01-23T19:57:25.522-08:00One Last Goodbye -Feline Art Friday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>This is one of my cloud paintings. </b> I think this kitty cloud looks so much like our little friend Crickette'.<br />
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<b>We were late for church that morning</b>--so we were in a hurry to get out the door. As we left, I noticed our sweet small cat sitting beside the back door, all fluffed with a shine of love in her eyes. I had a fleeting thought of tires and thought to myself, <i>I should put her inside before we leave.</i> But I didn't, because we were already pulling away from the house. She seemed to be saying goodbye and I smiled.<br />
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<b>Arriving home that afternoon, we didn't notice she was gone at first</b>. Then we realized our Crickette' was nowhere to be found. She was usually close at hand, interested in everything we would do.<br />
<br />
<b>As the hours passed,</b> and she didn't come to our calls, our heartache grew. All through the night, every few hours, I would awaken to go out and call her name.<br />
<br />
<b>Monday morning, I called the police</b> to see if they'd picked up a small grey cat. We live near downtown, so when there is an animal fatality, the police are called. The lady I spoke with said the police had indeed picked up a small grey cat near our home--<i>Saturday night</i>. I said with such relief, "My husband and I saw her Sunday morning, so it couldn't be our cat."<br />
<br />
<b>But our little Crickette' still didn't come home. </b> When I called back, the police were doubly firm they'd found our kitty on the road <i>Saturday </i>evening. <br />
<br />
<b>I can't explain it. </b> Our sweet furry friend came back to say goodbye.<br />
<br />
<b>When I talked to my husband </b>about it, he said he'd seen her too that Sunday morning--all bright eyed and fluffy--and he'd also felt as though she were saying goodbye. He just didn't realize what kind of a goodbye it would be.<br />
<br />
<b>I'm grateful Crickette' came back to say goodbye</b>--if she hadn't I would have always blamed myself for not letting her into the house before we left.<br />
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<b>I don't know how to explain what happened.</b> I'm just grateful to God, that it did. <br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-62293423764758160222014-08-20T10:01:00.002-07:002016-01-27T11:56:28.833-08:00Hometown Miracle -Beating the Odds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GyUGxscXW2E/U_TOnxbUxxI/AAAAAAAANwk/CTFBii6diOA/s1600/He%2BWalks%2BWith%2BMe%2B-Photomanip%2C%2BCopyrighted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GyUGxscXW2E/U_TOnxbUxxI/AAAAAAAANwk/CTFBii6diOA/s1600/He%2BWalks%2BWith%2BMe%2B-Photomanip%2C%2BCopyrighted.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>T<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">his morning, I read about a miracle</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> in our own hometown. It was in our local weekly newspaper<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">, <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Polk County Itemizer-Observer<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. The article was written by Jolene Guzman.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>In January of 2008, Tim visited his family doctor </b>for routine physical. Seemingly healthy, as a last minute thought, he asked the doctor to check his lungs because he'd recently developed a small persistent cough. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Tim says, "He put his stethoscope on my chest, </b>on my back, on my chest and on my back again. And then he told me, 'You need to go to the hospital.'"</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Tests and Cat scans revealed more than 20 tumors in his lungs.</b> Most were the size of dimes, nickels and quarters, but others were much larger. One tumor was even decomposing and was poisoning his body with toxins.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>His diagnosis was illusive. </b> Because the doctors couldn't pinpoint the actual cause for the tumors, there was no treatment for Tim. His wife remembers thinking that her husband was a dead man walking. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"<b>Right at the beginning we began to pray</b> and ask God for healing."<b> </b> For months, Tim, a tall athletic man who doesn't like to sit still, rested and waited upon God. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Tim called his doctor <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">again in <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">June</span></span>.</b> He felt just fine. A few days earlier he'd even stopped taking the pain medications he'd been forced to take to control his intense pain. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Baffled, t</span>he doctor sent him in for another CAT scan. </b> The couple didn't get a phone call with the outcome for several days. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>The incredible reason for the delay? </b> Tim's doctor couldn't believe what he was seeing and had the entire case reviewed to make sure the results were real. </span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"The tumors have resolved,"<b> </b>his Pulmonologist</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b> </b>told him over the phone. "You are getting better."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>"God in His mercy reached down </b>and touched my life and healed me," Tim says.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Miracles are happening all around us. </b>This dear couple's prayers and faith, resulted in God's mighty intervention. Tim was healed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>What would happen if we sincerely prayed over the impossible</b> things in our lives? What if we prayed about what we see happening overseas, in our own country and communities? Sometimes I forget to do that. Reading this miraculous story in today's newspaper, I felt new inspiration to bring everything to God in prayer as I walk through each day. </span></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then I shall look up </span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and watch what <i>He </i>will do.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b> </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Have a lovely day, sweet Friends!</b> Don't forget to bring <i>all </i>things--even seemingly impossible things--to God in prayer. <i>He is listening. </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Original News story, <i>Miracle Man Keeps Beating Odds</i>, was published in the August 20, 2014 issue of the Polk County Itemizer-Observer. The article was written by Jolene Guzman.) </span></span><br />
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-37922281029715407622014-04-04T05:59:00.000-07:002014-04-10T12:34:24.465-07:00Lights out! -SkyWatch Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Time for another angel story!</b> This one comes from Charlotte, who gave me permission to tell her story.<br />
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<span style="color: #ffffcc;">.</span></div>
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<b>One
very dark night, </b>Charlotte and her husband Bill were driving home
through a mountainous region in California known as Malibu Canyon. In
those days the road was extremely dangerous, sporting only two lanes, no
guard rails or lights, with a sheer drop to the canyon floor below. </div>
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<span style="color: #ffffcc;">..</span></div>
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<b>They had just driven into the most dangerous area </b>of the road, when suddenly their car lights went out! It was a moonless, wet, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wintry</span>
night, and they could not see the road ahead. With their vehicle's
lights off, the oncoming cars would not be able to see them coming. It
was a situation which could end in the worst kind of disaster.</div>
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<span style="color: #ffffcc;">.</span></div>
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<b>Charlotte
must have been terrified. </b>She wrote, "...so I prayed for the lights to
come on, and they did." Inexplicably the car's lights stayed on until
they drove out of danger. When they were safely through the canyon, the lights went out again--<i>forever.</i></div>
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<span style="color: #ffffcc;">.</span></div>
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<b>The next day, an astonished mechanic </b>told Charlotte's husband Bill, there was no way the lights could have come back on again--<i>the electrical was cut clear through</i>.</div>
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<span style="color: #ffffcc;">.</span></div>
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<b>Charlotte believes there were angels</b> holding those wires together, and writes, "...just hope they didn't singe their wings!"</div>
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<span style="color: #ffffcc;">.</span></div>
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<b>Angels are indeed watching over us!</b><br />
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<b>If you love clouds as much as I do</b>--join Skywatch Friday to see all
the amazing things to be found by looking up. Have a lovely day and
Happy Skywatch Friday!<br />
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<a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com/"><img alt="skywatch" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidlQ1kawzf5ttaYF5VIgsy0M6FVbzr5fCO266JWEmLqaLj6aos3n6suVkRxbb-IJJWaGLVu0p-SOZPlL4mcLoQL39hdgbSGdUolucCokpqQ877qhLlfzzNKQV1XqY3a0-fH-WEuXqYNLU/s220/skywatch_logo.jpg" height="54" id="Image12_img" width="180" /></a> </div>
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-6252278853777778062014-03-28T09:32:00.000-07:002017-10-29T10:58:08.645-07:00Freeway Angel -SkyWatch Friday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Time for another Angel Story.</b> A few years ago, our good friend Ken was driving a truckload of pipe down highway 16, Washington State.<br />
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<b>A man pulled alongside, signaling something was wrong</b> with his load, so Ken slowed and stopped on the shoulder of the highway. The man also stopped and together they tightened down the ropes holding the pipes in place. Suddenly Ken didn't feel very well and he had to sit down.<br />
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<b>Then he lost consciousness. </b>Ken was having a major heart attack. His helpful new friend called 911 and began to administer CPR. Later the paramedics couldn't recall what the man looked like, or where he went once they took over. He and his vehicle simply vanished.<br />
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<b>Ken's family was heartbroken </b>when the doctors told them tests revealed that there was no brain activity. Ken was moved to hospice where they expected him to die. But my husband and I and hundreds of people all over the world were praying for a miracle.<br />
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<b>He was in a coma without any brain activity</b> for quite a long time. Then came the day the family was approached about organ donation. The doctors told them Ken would never recover because he was brain dead. But the family decided to wait. Weeks went by, we were all afraid he was going to die.<br />
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<b>Meanwhile, his youngest daughter had been feeding him ice chips.</b> When she would place the ice in his mouth, he would swallow the water. The nurses discouraged her from doing so, they said she was prolonging the inevitable. But that dear girl kept on giving her Dad the ice.<br />
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<b>I'm not sure how much more time passed</b>, but one day when the family came to visit they found an empty bed. They feared the worst.<br />
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<b>Imagine their astonishment </b>when they found Ken alive and well in the small hospice cafeteria, eating mashed potatoes, gravy and turkey. He could walk and talk--he knew his family and he was hungry.<br />
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<b>He actually had to stay in Hospice a few extra days </b>because there was no paperwork in existence to check someone OUT of hospice! We all had a pretty good laugh over that.<br />
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<b>We still see him from time to time</b>--he is healthy, hale and hearty.<br />
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<b>If that man hadn't signaled something was wrong</b> with the load of pipes, Ken wouldn't have pulled over. He could have had a heart attack while he was driving. Others could have been hurt. If the man hadn't been there to call 911 and administer CPR, our friend might not have made it.<br />
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<b>An angel?</b> I believe it is possible.<br />
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<b>To be called brain dead one day </b>and yet awaken with one's brain intact is miraculous. God is still in the business of miracles!<b> </b><br />
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<b>If you love clouds as much as I do</b>--join Skywatch Friday to see all
the amazing things to be found by looking up. Have a lovely day and
Happy Skywatch Friday!<br />
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<a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com/"><img alt="skywatch" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidlQ1kawzf5ttaYF5VIgsy0M6FVbzr5fCO266JWEmLqaLj6aos3n6suVkRxbb-IJJWaGLVu0p-SOZPlL4mcLoQL39hdgbSGdUolucCokpqQ877qhLlfzzNKQV1XqY3a0-fH-WEuXqYNLU/s220/skywatch_logo.jpg" height="54" id="Image12_img" width="180" /></a> </div>
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-6848505989198722962014-03-20T00:00:00.000-07:002014-03-20T21:54:20.523-07:00Angels in the Sky -SkyWatch Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Two
weeks ago yesterday, I was working on the computer when the smoke alarm
went off. At first I thought it was something in the kitchen, but then
I realized it was our wood stove and there was a chimney fire.<br />
<br />
I yelled for my husband to call 911. Then I grabbed a bucket, filled it with water and doused the fire in the wood stove. As I shut it up tight, a plume of steam raced up the chimney. This was the best thing I could have done, I'm told, as the steam likely slowed the fire down until the fire trucks could get there.<br />
<br />
In fact, the fireman told us the wall was minutes away from
bursting into flame. A miracle indeed.<br />
<br />
A couple nights after the fire, I could not sleep. I wandered the
house, not knowing why I did. I noticed an awful aroma in the back of
the house--it smelled like rotten beetles. It took me a bit to discover
the aroma came from closet under the stairway, and when I opened the
door there was smoke. Apparently one of the breakers in the breaker box
there had overheated and melted. It was likely on fire, but contained
by the metal box. My husband was able to contain it and we were safe. This was totally unrelated to the chimney fire. Again, we were protected.<br />
<br />
The
next morning as the cleaning crew arrived, I saw some amazing
clouds in the sky, so I ran outside to take a few pictures. Later as I looked at
the photos on my computer I was astonished to see what looked like two
angels hovering over the trees.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EGQAiGcw6Vs/UyoLiaAX7PI/AAAAAAAAMkg/cKjEa7NYeQc/s1600/Angels+cropped.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EGQAiGcw6Vs/UyoLiaAX7PI/AAAAAAAAMkg/cKjEa7NYeQc/s1600/Angels+cropped.JPG" height="320" width="234" /></a></div>
<br />
Here
is a closeup of them. Astonishing, isn't it? With the events of the
past three weeks, I am just sure they are our guardian angels.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bFR0sBV9qxo/UyoLiHFSZ9I/AAAAAAAAMkk/s5cuCohsC3s/s1600/Angels+cropped2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bFR0sBV9qxo/UyoLiHFSZ9I/AAAAAAAAMkk/s5cuCohsC3s/s1600/Angels+cropped2.JPG" height="303" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
If you love clouds as much as I do--join Skywatch Friday to see all
the amazing things to be found by looking up. Have a lovely day and
Happy Skywatch Friday!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com/"><img alt="skywatch" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidlQ1kawzf5ttaYF5VIgsy0M6FVbzr5fCO266JWEmLqaLj6aos3n6suVkRxbb-IJJWaGLVu0p-SOZPlL4mcLoQL39hdgbSGdUolucCokpqQ877qhLlfzzNKQV1XqY3a0-fH-WEuXqYNLU/s220/skywatch_logo.jpg" height="54" id="Image12_img" width="180" /></a> </div>
Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-67820927947615332642013-10-03T17:23:00.000-07:002013-10-30T19:51:12.112-07:00Rocky Mountain Adventure -Guest Heart Thursday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DVIo8Jz3-nc/Uk4KLwKElII/AAAAAAAALhU/sFLiJgZMdmU/s1600/She+Glows+-Photomanip,+heart,+copyrighted,+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DVIo8Jz3-nc/Uk4KLwKElII/AAAAAAAALhU/sFLiJgZMdmU/s400/She+Glows+-Photomanip,+heart,+copyrighted,+web.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<b>Years ago, when our children were "tweens,"</b> my
husband and our family along with his Brother, Sister-in-Law and their family
were sightseeing in the Rocky Mountains near Estes park.</div>
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<b>The cliffs along the road sparkled like diamonds.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were in awe so we pulled to the side of
the road to look at the bright<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>rocks of
the steep hillside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<b>The kids decided to climb the side of the hill.</b></div>
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<b>Our middle daughter had climbed quite a ways up when the
unthinkable happened</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She reached out to
grab part of the cliff when a huge piece of the cliff came loose on top of
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later she said,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I tried to push it to one side with my hands
so it wouldn’t hit my cousins, but it was too heavy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything went into in slow motion as I
watched the boulder land on my nephew, then bounce back onto my daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<b>The giant rock hit both her shins</b> and she flew backwards off
the cliff, landing on her back in a cupped area of sharp rocks below.</div>
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<b>The huge rock bounced down to land on my young niece,</b>
hitting her hard on the thigh as she slid down the cliff on her feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My daughter said at that moment she felt
herself blacking out--but she was so worried about her cousins, she wouldn’t
let herself go into the darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<b>As she lay there, she was afraid</b> to move because she hurt so
badly.</div>
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<b>I don’t remember how I got to her side</b>, but suddenly I was
there, my husband close behind, checking her legs, her back while my
brother-in-law, once he knew his son was alright, carried his daughter to the
edge of the road.</div>
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<b>Miraculously the kids only sustained scrapes and cuts</b>—there
were no broken bones, no lasting consequences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They insisted on going on to Estes
Park.</div>
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<b>On our way back, we pulled over to the spot </b>where our
children had so narrowly escaped harm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was the rock which had fallen onto the children--it was so big and
heavy my husband and his brother together couldn’t lift it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a miracle no one was seriously
hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We knew God’s angels had hefted
that great boulder aside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>There was no
other explanation.</i></div>
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<b>Then the kids decided to climb the hill again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>It looked safe and they were determined to
go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After examining the hillside, we as
parents felt this was the best thing to do.</div>
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<b>After climbing to the top and back </b>our daughter confided,
“Best of all I conquered my fear and climbed that same cliff--all the way to
the top.”</div>
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<b>Later we went back and got that big rock</b>—it rests my
brother-in-law’s Garden—a reminder of God’s incredible mercy and grace, and the
strength and loving protection of those Rocky Mountain Angels.<br />
<br />
<b>For more heart art, photography, and altogether fabulous heart stuff</b> from around the world, visit Clytie at Random Hearts for Guest Heart Thursday!<br />
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<a href="http://clytie-randomhearts.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" height="156" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z-Y2VwQY8PU/THaoV3m2K-I/AAAAAAAAE3A/MhV59sGzWZM/s200/Guest+Heart8+Badge.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-36240086118280423052013-08-01T11:57:00.000-07:002013-08-02T15:24:25.784-07:00Angels Overhead -Guest Heart Thursday<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d0otNd_0yMY/UfwAR-hVQyI/AAAAAAAALSc/zNNDh5R5BGI/s1600/Beautiful+skies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d0otNd_0yMY/UfwAR-hVQyI/AAAAAAAALSc/zNNDh5R5BGI/s320/Beautiful+skies.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
If you look closely you can see a heart hidden in the arms of the cloud. What a beautiful day it was. I was down at the park with my darling little niece. We were in awe of the beauty of the skies.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nH4oAoT5FXc/UfwAMsQo_OI/AAAAAAAALSY/gkshC2WIiR4/s1600/Angel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nH4oAoT5FXc/UfwAMsQo_OI/AAAAAAAALSY/gkshC2WIiR4/s320/Angel.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Then she gasped and pointed upward. "Look," she cried. "There's an angel!" She danced on her small toes as she added, "and his arms are open for a hug."<br />
<br />
What a beautiful thing--to see through the eyes of a child.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For more heart art, photography and altogether fabulous heart stuff from around the world, visit Clytie at Random Hearts for <i>Guest Heart Thursday</i><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://clytie-randomhearts.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" height="156" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z-Y2VwQY8PU/THaoV3m2K-I/AAAAAAAAE3A/MhV59sGzWZM/s200/Guest+Heart8+Badge.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-46843506162905317872013-06-21T10:03:00.000-07:002013-06-21T10:13:05.689-07:00Angels on the Highway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMskpyw78cc/UcR6KDCZ1CI/AAAAAAAALGk/exTiPTaop54/s1600/Christmas+Angel+-Photomanip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMskpyw78cc/UcR6KDCZ1CI/AAAAAAAALGk/exTiPTaop54/s400/Christmas+Angel+-Photomanip.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>The evening after we returned</b> from our 30th anniversary celebration, I received a message that our friends in Carson needed me to speak for their Mother/Daughter tea--their speaker had become ill and was not going to make it.<br />
<br />
<b>I almost said no,</b> because I suddenly had the strong impression if I went, I would be in grave danger. Yet something inside me knew I must say yes. So I did, but not before asking everyone I knew to pray for safety on the road. <br />
<br />
<b>I had one day to prepare.</b> They wanted to know if I could bring my Mom, so I asked Mumsie if she'd like to come with me. I was delighted when she said she could. Time with Mumsie is to be treasured, even in heavy traffic! Traffic in Portland was congested and slow. <br />
<br />
<b>I was in the middle lane</b>, cars on both sides, when I noticed the man in the big SUV on my right was drifting into my lane. It didn't seem real, when suddenly he swerved at me--he didn't even <i>look </i>to see if anyone was in his way.<br />
<br />
<b>Just in time,</b> the car on my left sped up, so I was able to swerve into the left lane, while laying on the horn.<br />
<br />
<b>That SUV had come to within an <u><i>inch</i></u> of the side of my car.</b> Mumsie could not believe he'd come that close without actually hitting us. Mom and I were both shaking, as the man backed off and pulled in behind us.<br />
<br />
<b>Only supernatural intervention </b>could have saved us. It was SUCH a close call.<br />
<br />
<b>But then less than a minute later,</b> ANOTHER car--a big old boat of a car tried to pull in front of me into a space that wasn't there--as he did so, the car in front slammed on <i>their </i>brakes. Mom was saying, "Slow down, slow down," as I miraculously missed hitting the back left-hand side of that idiotic young man's bumper.<br />
<br />
<b>Once again, we were safe. </b>Both Mom and I distinctly felt Angels all around us. Watching--keeping us from harm. <br />
<br />
<b>I slowed to a crawl,</b> grabbed Mom's hand and I cried. The big silver SUV was still behind us at a discreet distance, following us onto The Dalles freeway.<br />
<br />
<b>Then traffic slowed once more.</b> The SUV changed lanes to pass us. <br />
<br />
<b>Said I, to Mumsie.</b> "I am going to give that guy the 'Mommy look.'"<br />
<br />
<b>I slid my glasses to the end of my nose </b>and as that man passed us, he looked over at me. I gave it to him both barrels. His mouth opened into an O, his eyes were huge and he looked terrified. We followed him at a discreet distance, until he suddenly crossed three lanes of traffic to take the next exit.<br />
<br />
<b>When we arrived in Carson,</b> Mumsie and I were not surprised to hear that, at the time we faced that great danger, several of the ladies had been led to pray. <br />
<br />
<b>Astounding. But not surprising.</b> There was a feeling that we had avoided an evil attack of some kind--that there were invisible forces all around us, fighting and protecting us from an awful fate.<br />
<br />
<b>I know it was my destiny</b> to speak that day. Something didn't want me to get there.<br />
<br />
<b>I believe what I was led to say made a difference</b> in many lives. I am grateful to God for His protection and for our beautiful friends in Carson. <br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-17800203596149016062013-04-16T10:47:00.000-07:002013-04-19T11:07:05.698-07:00Our Hearts Grieve<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lSI8Uxhu-2o/UXGB2R_alpI/AAAAAAAAKqw/E-DzIFwPgDQ/s1600/Glowing+Angel+Original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lSI8Uxhu-2o/UXGB2R_alpI/AAAAAAAAKqw/E-DzIFwPgDQ/s320/Glowing+Angel+Original.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Monday, as events unfolded, </b>I took a break to walk outside. I was in tears, praying for the people of Boston--Asking God to cover everyone who's lives have been altered forever.<br />
<br />
<b>Astonishingly, my camera captured this angelic cloud</b> overhead. Indeed, I believe God has sent his angels to cover, protect and intervene in this situation. I don't know how it will end, but I continue to pray.<br />
<br />
<b>Our hearts grieve </b>over the tragedy--this heartbreaking event has changed so many lives--those who died and their families and others who have been grievously wounded. It may sound strange, but my heart also goes out to the families of the young men who chose to do this horrible thing.<br />
<br />
<b>Let justice prevail</b>, yet let<b> </b>compassion overcome our great anger. <br />
<br />
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-26926357086537224742013-04-12T10:11:00.001-07:002013-04-12T12:59:19.357-07:00Cloudy Angel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6aJmQpBFEw/UWg__HqlPwI/AAAAAAAAKmI/VwsrkuXEmB0/s1600/Waving+Cloud3+cropped+Copyrighted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6aJmQpBFEw/UWg__HqlPwI/AAAAAAAAKmI/VwsrkuXEmB0/s320/Waving+Cloud3+cropped+Copyrighted.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Sunday, on our way home </b>from Carson, Washington State, we stopped in
Stevenson at my favorite park.<br />
<br />
<b>It is where one can cross an oaken
bridge to a little flower-strewn meadow.</b> From there, stone hewn steps lead to a small
lagoon where the beach is strewn with blue rocks. I once met a dragon
there. (grin) It is a magical place.<br />
<br />
<b>The clouds were boiling overhead,</b> but the river seemed calm. A gentle breeze blew and I began to feel whispy drops of rain. "Time to leave," I thought with a bit of reluctance, glancing toward the opposite side of the Columbia River.<br />
<br />
<b>I wasn't a bit surprised t</b>o see that cloudy angel waving at me!<br />
<br />
<b>Have a beautiful day!
</b>Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-66739979200546907482013-03-30T11:28:00.003-07:002017-12-23T12:10:09.220-08:00Mysterious Tears<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2dLI_DbkEg0/UVcsIEU5NLI/AAAAAAAAKeA/4thxhtWTOFw/s1600/Tears+-Chalk,+Copyrighted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2dLI_DbkEg0/UVcsIEU5NLI/AAAAAAAAKeA/4thxhtWTOFw/s320/Tears+-Chalk,+Copyrighted.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
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<br />
<b>I was ten years old </b>when I created this chalk drawing on black construction paper. I can still feel the way the chalk felt in my fingers, as I drew it across the paper--I can see the lighting of the room and I remember I knew exactly how to draw this man's face. Mrs. Young, my teacher was amazed.<br />
<br />
<b>Mom loved it so much she hung it on the wall</b> of the stairway which led to my sister and my room. It hung there until I was in my late teens and I found a frame for it.<br />
<br />
<b>Thirty years later</b>, I took the drawing out of its frame to scan it into the computer, to upload it onto an art website I had at that time.<br />
<br />
<b>That's when I noticed the tears.</b> I was floored. There were what looked like tear stains dripping from his eyes and tracing down onto his cheeks. <br />
<br />
<b>I was astonished and more than a little in awe. </b>If you click to enlarge the picture, you can clearly see where the tears trickled from his eyes through the chalk. I often wonder about those tears. I wonder. I do. So many miraculous things have happened in my life. <br />
<br />
<b>Today the drawing hangs on my office wall</b>. It reminds me that mysterious, miraculous things really do happen.<br />
<br />
<b>Sometimes miracles occur through the innocent hands</b> of a little child wielding a piece of chalk against a thick piece of black construction paper.<br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-32033531782721799842013-02-14T09:48:00.001-08:002013-04-12T14:48:13.069-07:00Roses for Mumsie -Guest Heart Thursday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zxinHZeRm2g/UR0gO_EojkI/AAAAAAAAKIg/NgpirqtjHAU/s1600/Heart3+Copyrighted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zxinHZeRm2g/UR0gO_EojkI/AAAAAAAAKIg/NgpirqtjHAU/s320/Heart3+Copyrighted.jpg" width="304" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Every Valentine's Day,</b> Daddy always found a way to get Mumsie a lovely bouquet of flowers and a big fancy box of candy. Because this was Mom's first <i>Valentine's Day</i> since Dad died, I knew it would be incredibly difficult for her. I wanted to do something special for her in his absence. <br />
<br />
<b>So, I found some flowers</b> which were reasonably priced and chose the best ones I could afford. I looked longingly at a huge bouquet of red roses, but knew I couldn't swing it. I asked the clerk if they sold fancy boxes of chocolate and if not, perhaps she knew someplace nearby where they did.<br />
<br />
<b>I explained my plans to surprise Mom with flowers</b> and a big box of chocolates and why it was so important. Unbidden, tears lurked in my eyes.<br />
<br />
<b>As I was ready to purchase the flowers I'd found,</b> the young lady excused herself for a moment. I stood at the check out counter lost in my thoughts--when I heard her ask, "Does your Mom like roses?"<br />
<br />
<b>"Yes, she does," I said</b>, looking up with a tearful smile.<br />
<br />
<b>In her hands the girl bore a beautiful bouquet </b>of a dozen red roses complete with baby's breath and gorgeous greens.<br />
<br />
<b>"These are for your Mom</b>," she said, putting them into my hands. "And they're on the house."<br />
<br />
<b>I gasped and burst into tears</b> and when I could find the words, I thanked her. She was weeping as she hugged me. <b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>What an unexpected, precious gift of love </b>for our beloved Mumsie--on a day I know she was dreading with all her heart.<br />
<br />
<b>Sometimes Angels are people </b>doing wonderful, unexpected things for each other. I am so grateful for Miss Molly and her lovely gift of flowers. Mom was astonished--and when she heard the story, she was even more touched. (And yes, I did find a really cool heart box filled with chocolates to go along with those roses.) (grin)<b> </b><br />
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<b>We can all be someone's Angel</b>--and you never know who's watching. Click on the heart below--this song touched me SO much. Thank you to all the angels out there--with one simple kind act, you can change the world.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Q4GiUY1LFc/UR1A_KnvwBI/AAAAAAAAKLE/FBS--jvSnMQ/s1600/Rose+of+My+Heart+Watercolor+-+Colored+Pencil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ID0kgP9IVhs" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Q4GiUY1LFc/UR1A_KnvwBI/AAAAAAAAKLE/FBS--jvSnMQ/s200/Rose+of+My+Heart+Watercolor+-+Colored+Pencil.jpg" width="145" /></a></div>
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<b>I wish each of you</b>, a wonderful Happy Valentine's Day!<b> </b><br />
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For more heart art, photography and altogether fabulous heart stuff from around the world, visit Clytie at Random Hearts for <i>Guest Heart Thursday</i>!<b> </b><br />
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-12307701545791772922012-12-27T20:42:00.001-08:002013-10-30T19:50:04.059-07:00Christmas Eve Angel -Guest Heart Thursday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UmSkJL_5sHQ/UN0jMJQdhrI/AAAAAAAAJk4/42QOngPda2Q/s1600/Angel+Smiles+-Cloud+Painting,+Heart,+Web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UmSkJL_5sHQ/UN0jMJQdhrI/AAAAAAAAJk4/42QOngPda2Q/s320/Angel+Smiles+-Cloud+Painting,+Heart,+Web.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>
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<b>The holidays have been hard this year. </b> This was our first Thanksgiving and Christmas without our Dad. It has been an emotionally hard time for our entire family.<br />
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<b>It was Christmas Eve day. </b>I was working on Christmas presents, when the phone rang. It was Sissy. When she told me what had just happened, I laughed and laughed--It was exactly what we all needed. I asked Clytie to send me the story of the <i>Christmas Eve Angel</i><b> </b>so I could share it with you.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Sissy
writes, </b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><b>"</b>I was walking down our rural
country road, picking up cans to earn a few extra dollars. It was Christmas
Eve, and I was short of money for the month.</i><br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had just picked up a bottle and put it in my
bag, when I heard a car come to a stop behind me. I turned around and saw a
small Volkswagen Jetta, the window rolled down, an older lady behind the wheel.
"Miss, Miss", she called.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hi," I said, walking
towards her car.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh, I don't want to scare
you." she said, with a thick accent.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I thought she was lost on our windy
country road, so I asked her if she needed directions.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No," she answered.
"God told me to stop".</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I backed up a bit -
"Okaaay".</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"God told me to stop and give
you something."</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I figured she was going to give me a
religious tract or something. At least she was <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>being
nice about it! "Oh," I answered "That's very sweet, but you
don't need to do that."</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yes, I do. God told me I had
to. If you don't take it, then I will leave it here on the middle of the road
for someone else!"</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With that, she shoved a piece of
paper into my hand ... and drove away.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">"God bless
you," she called as she went. "Merry Christmas!"</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I opened my hand, and tears flooded
my eyes as I saw what she had given me.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A clean, crisp $20
bill.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Was she an angel? Maybe.</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Do angels drive Volkswagen Jettas???"</i></div>
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<b>Isn't that a wonderful story</b>? I think about what happened and I know Dad is smiling. I am so grateful for Clytie's <i>Christmas Eve Angel</i>.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For more heart art, photography and altogether fabulous heart stuff from around the world, visit Clytie at Random Hearts for <i>Guest Heart Thursday</i><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span><br />
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Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-59076672745266077672012-11-17T10:49:00.000-08:002013-05-02T07:58:21.778-07:00Heaven Bound<b>Three weeks ago, Dad had a major stroke</b>. The affects of this stroke are catastrophic. He is unable to swallow, or to speak. Dad is at the VA Hospital and has been on complete comfort care for about a week now. He is getting ready to slip into heaven. Mom has been staying there full time until Daddy goes Home.<br />
<br />
<b>I was visiting Mumsie a couple of days ago</b> and I brought my laptop, so we could look at old family pictures to pass the time. We had so much fun laughing at pictures of ourselves from long ago.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9XUFbC0MvDg/UKfG0ShQ0xI/AAAAAAAAJRo/5VUtSc11RWA/s1600/DSC03311+Cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9XUFbC0MvDg/UKfG0ShQ0xI/AAAAAAAAJRo/5VUtSc11RWA/s400/DSC03311+Cropped.jpg" width="342" /></a></div>
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<b>Then unexpectedly, we came across a series of photos</b> from last August. I didn't even remember taking them. They seem almost prophetic. Do you see that sweet little smile and the love in his eyes? </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d97lQtOKPKo/UKfGmiQJQTI/AAAAAAAAJRc/r5cozcIKfl4/s1600/DSC03301+Empty.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d97lQtOKPKo/UKfGmiQJQTI/AAAAAAAAJRc/r5cozcIKfl4/s320/DSC03301+Empty.JPG" width="256" /></a></div>
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<b>Then especially this one of glory light </b>on Dad's empty chair. This is the chair where he always sat. Mom and I gasped when we saw this picture. You see--when Dad had this last stroke, Mom knew before anyone else that he would not be returning home. </div>
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<b>Soon Daddy will be with Jesus in Heaven.</b> He will be able to leap, jump, run and walk again. Dad will be free of that chair and the neck brace he had to wear day and night. He will see his own Dad, Mom, brothers, sisters and dear friends who have gone before him. We rejoice over the day Dad will be free from his earth suit. Though those of us who are left behind will grieve. But we do not grieve as those who have no hope. </div>
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<i><b>"Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard</b>, and which have not entered the heart of man, all that God has prepared for those who love Him.</i>" (1 Corinthians 2:9)</div>
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<i><b>"Let not your heart be troubled;</b> believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also."</i> (John 14-1-3)</div>
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<b>We will see Dad again.</b> In this we have hope. God bless you all.</div>
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<i><b>11/17/2012: This afternoon, while setting up for a performance, I suddenly became so dizzy I could not stand up</b>. It felt like a piece of me was suddenly missing. I knew Dad was gone--15 minutes later a phone call confirmed what my heart had already told me. Thank you for your warm thoughts and loving prayers for me and for my beloved family.</i></div>
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<br />Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-44069599203387645622012-05-04T06:30:00.000-07:002012-05-04T11:49:39.766-07:00Grammie's Precious Prayers<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X4lKK1mviCc/T5CAmiZV2pI/AAAAAAAAH_w/cRHjO0sNj0s/s1600/Bliss+-Copyrighted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X4lKK1mviCc/T5CAmiZV2pI/AAAAAAAAH_w/cRHjO0sNj0s/s320/Bliss+-Copyrighted.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>With Mother's Day so close</b>, I thought a story from my talented Mom about her own dear Mother, would be a delightful way to celebrate the Holiday.<b> </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>I had the privilege and honor </b>of living in my Grandmother's basement for nearly three years. She and I became best friends. I still miss her with all my heart. This amazing event happened in the weeks before she flew away to heaven--it is one of those miraculous things one cannot explain.<br />
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<b>Here is my Mother's wonderful story:</b></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>As I chopped vegetables into little pieces for the soup</b>, the phone
rang. It was my friend Jane. "I tried calling everybody on the
prayer chain," she cried, "but you were the only one who
answered. Please, will you pray for my daughter, Alicia? She's been
in a car accident and she's in the hospital with a broken hip. Her baby
girl, due in three weeks, is coming right now. Oh, Eva, please, please
pray. They're doing a C-section."<br />
<br />
<b>We prayed together on the phone.</b> Afterwards I went into the kitchen and
finished putting together mother's lunch. Alicia and her baby were still heavy
on my mind as I walked across the field to mother's house and opened the
door. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>There Mom sat in her wheel chair,</b> wandering in her own little
world, a folded piece of paper on the tray in front of her, a pencil poised in
her hand.<br />
<br />
<b>She looked up, smiled, then handed me the paper. </b> I put her food on the
table and took the paper, curious as to what she'd been writing. But this list
was different from the one where she'd listed chocolate pudding ten
times. On this one was written just three words, "Alicia, Emerg. Pray." </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<br />
<b>Sudden goose bumps popped up on my arms</b>. "Did the phone ring,"
I asked my brother Dale as he came into the room. "Did she answer
it?"<br />
<br />
<b>He looked at me strangely. </b> "She hasn't answered the phone in months,
you know that. Nobody called."<br />
<br />
<b>But I couldn't figure it out.</b> "Did someone come to visit?"<br />
<br />
<b>Another strange look.</b> He shook his head. "She's just been
sitting there all morning with me."<br />
<br />
<b>I told him about my friend Jane,</b> whose daughter Alicia had been
brought to the hospital and who, even as we spoke, was having an emergency
C-section. "She asked me to pray and I did." </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>Then I
pointed at the paper </b>with the words only God could have given my mother, "Alicia, emerg. Pray." </span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><i> <br /><br />
<b>Later, when I told my pastor what had happened</b> he shook his head in
wonderment. "God isn't through with your mother yet," he
marveled. "Just think, God loved Alicia so much He asked a
little 95 year old lady with Alzheimers to pray for this girl and her unborn baby. And
when she prayed, God worked a miracle of love and healing."</i>
<i><br /><br />
</i><b>God's call is a very real thing</b>; consider the coincidence of a frightened soon-to-be grandmother, calling her friend in another town who was preparing lunch for her shut-in mother. Think about the little old white haired lady sitting alone in her chair, who, without talking to anyone, was moved by God to pray specifically for Alicia, a young woman injured in an accident and whose unborn child was in danger.<b> </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>Miraculous, amazing</b>--there are times when God calls us to pray--Sometimes we don't even know why--but the burden is so heavy we fall to our knees. It is only later we see His miraculous hand. Our loving Creator reaches out through us and works His will and way in the heart of that one for whom we
pray. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>Today Alicia's little girl is a happy eight-year old</b> with shiny brown curls
and a happy smile.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><b>The Blessing of answered prayer continues</b> on--moving outward like ripples on a pond. <br />
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</span><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana;"></span></i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span></div>Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2392797734859558823.post-59122421795958508152012-03-22T12:12:00.000-07:002012-03-28T10:52:20.746-07:00Sissy's Christmas Angel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rrf1pqaN-Yo/T2t4EZXAoZI/AAAAAAAAHzQ/qe1EEa7CZco/s1600/Daddy+Tell+Me+A+Story+-Copyrighted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rrf1pqaN-Yo/T2t4EZXAoZI/AAAAAAAAHzQ/qe1EEa7CZco/s320/Daddy+Tell+Me+A+Story+-Copyrighted.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<b>Time for another Angel Story</b>. My darling Sister Clytie sent this one to me a few months ago. Wow--sometimes angels are people, you know. It is Spring, I know--but with our recent snowstorm, I thought this story to be perfect for a snowy wintery Spring day.<br />
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<b>Sissy writes</b>, <i>"This story started a long time ago, but the interesting part happened more
recently. I had been searching for an affordable digital converter box, as a
promise to Victoria, for months. They were hard (nearly impossible!) to find,
and the few that I did find were price prohibitive.<br /><br /><b>Then in November I
found an ad</b> in the newspaper for a converter box - at a very cheap price! I went
to the store mentioned in the ad, and found they didn't carry them at that
particular location. I checked 3 more stores in different towns, before I gave
up. Then, just before Christmas, I found another store ad! Again, though,
the converter box was not available in any of the stores I visited. In all, I
searched 6 stores - only to come up empty handed.<br /><br /><b>Finally on Friday, I
stopped at one last Rite Aid</b> ... and found a spot on the shelf for the box - but
the shelf was empty. I waited at the service counter, and asked if they were
going to get more in, or maybe one was behind the counter. Sadly, the clerk said
they had only received a couple of them, which sold out quickly. They did not
expect anymore. Ever.<br /><br /><b>I started to leave the store, </b>when the pharmacist,
who had been listening to my questions, came over. "Do you live here in town?"
she asked. "No, I live in Wilsonville" - 10 miles or so away. She turned away,
then turned back "I live in McMinnville" she said - 10 miles or so the other
direction. I wasn't sure why she felt I needed to know this. Suddenly she said
"I have one at home. It's brand new, in the box - I've never used it, and never
will. If you can come back tomorrow, I want to give it to you."<br /><br /><b>I started
to cry,</b> telling her I would be back. She said her name was Pam.<br /><br /><b>This
morning I went back to Rite Aid. It was a glorious day,</b> and I enjoyed driving
the winding country road. I tried to rehearse in my mind what I would say ...
what if she forgot to bring it? I would hate for her to think I would be upset!
I wanted to reassure her that it didn't matter - her offer alone was enough to
bring joy to my Christmas!<br /><br /><b>I got to the store, took a deep breath</b>, double
checking my pocket to make sure the special card I had found for her was still
there, and went into the store. I asked for Pam, and there she came, a huge
smile on her face. She went behind the counter, and came back out with a box.
Can you believe it, she actually apologized because the box had a tear in it!
<br /><br /><b>I thanked her, tears raining down my cheeks.</b> Then I handed her the card.
She looked startled, saying "Oh, you didn't have to do that!".<br /><br /><b>"I know,"
I said. "Neither did you."</b><br /><br /><b>Pam will forever be my beautiful Christmas
angel</b>, who brought a joyous light to this total stranger, and I will never
forget her generosity and beauty ... and how she taught me once again the true
meaning of Christmas ... and faith.</i><br />
<br />
I am so grateful to the angels in our lives. They appear unexpectedly, bringing joy and leaving wonder in their wake.<br />
<br />
You can visit Sissy at <a href="http://clytie-randomhearts.blogspot.com/"><i>Random Hearts</i></a>. She is an amazing, talented, incredible person--I am SO privileged to be Clytie's big sis. Beth Niquettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.com2