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Stories of Faith for Inspiration and Proof that God can be Trusted Completely

We stood around her in a circle, about twelve of us—ex-drug heads, ex-prostitutes, ex-thieves, and ex-gang members. We watched her anguish and understood at the deepest level her final step of submission. We continued singing. But it was not so the morning of that day.

After breakfast I stood looking out my parent’s picture window facing our street. I was eighteen at the time. It was a cold, cloudy, rainy spring morning on that Saturday. I was home by myself listening to the rain when I saw a woman walking up our street.  She had the most dejected and empty look I had ever seen. She wore a drenched, cheap artificial fur coat that was hanging open in the cold. Her hair was tangled, her makeup was smeared around her eyes, and she was completely soaked and obviously cold. I could see the steam from her breath as she wept and walked. She looked profoundly out of place in our neighborhood and utterly lost.

Going out to her, I asked if she needed help. She just looked at me for a minute and then haltingly said, “Yes, yes I do need help.” I brought her into the house and gave her a towel and put her coat in the dryer. The lost look in her eyes was haunting. She wasn’t on drugs or drunk; I would have recognized those conditions. She exuded utter hopelessness. A woman who seemed to only be in her late twenties, yet the lines in her face spoke of a bitter, hardened life beyond her years.  I asked her where she was heading, to which she replied, “I don’t know.” She said the bus had stopped at the end of our street, and she just got  out and started walking. She had nowhere to go.

I told her I knew of a place she could stay. It was a Christian farm about fifty miles north where they take in people struggling with all kinds of issues. I fed her and soon after, my parents arrived home. I explained the situation and that I needed to borrow the car to take her to the farm. With their approval to use the car, I got her coat out of the dryer and we left.  On the way to the farm, I asked her how she had gotten to this place in life.

Her story unraveled as she told me, “I went to California hoping to become an actress.  All my friends said I looked like an actress, so I should try to become one. But after I got there, finding a job was really tough, so I ended up working at a restaurant as a waitress.” She stopped for a few moments staring out the car window and then continued, “I got to know one of the patrons who was a really nice guy, a great listener. I confided in him about how much I wanted to become an actress but couldn’t afford to work, pay rent, and take acting lessons at the same time. Then he just smiled at me and said that I could stay with him while I took acting lessons—he would be happy to help a budding actress.”

“He had a beautiful home right on the beach, and I remember thinking that this guy must have a lot of money since his beach house is kind of isolated with its own private beach.” She fell silent again and began to weep. Struggling, she said, “He introduced me to drugs. First he offered me marijuana, then LSD, and finally heroin. As my life began falling apart, he forced me into prostitution. Other girls started showing up at the beach house—we were beaten or drugged if we refused to party with his friends.” Then she just stopped and silently wept the rest of the way to the farm.

After we arrived, I took her into the main building. Two women that worked there saw how distressed she was and took her upstairs to a small meeting room where some folks were praying. I introduced her, and a brother stepped forward, smiling, he looked her straight in the eyes and said, “All of us here have made serious mistakes in our lives, but through Jesus Christ, we can have a new beginning, a fresh start.”

He took her hand, and they both knelt down, and about twelve of us gathered around the two them.  As the brother began to explain to her the way to Jesus, someone started softly and slowly singing, “Amazing Grace”; the rest of us joined in quietly.

As we sang . . .

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,

she trembled and wept; every fiber of her being wanted this “new beginning” in Jesus. Her heart had been touched by hope.

We continued . . .

That saved a wretch like me. 

She wept loudly and was in deep anguish as she recounted her story to the brother. She clutched herself in profound regret.

Softly . . .

I once was lost, but now am found,

Her countenance began to change; she was accepting the free gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. She started relaxing, the tension draining from her body.  She leaned back, tears of joy streaming from her closed eyes.

Was blind, but now I see.

She opened her eyes and looked up—she seemed to be looking right into heaven.  She smiled a wonderful glowing smile as if she saw Jesus standing there with open arms saying, “Welcome, my daughter, welcome home!”

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,

bright shining as the sun. 

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise,

than when we first begun.

Copyright © 2012 by William D. (Nick) Nichols

Passing by my youngest daughter, Brittany, lying on the couch, I said, “You look funny.  I mean not funny, funny, as in Ha, Ha, clown funny, but the yucky funny kind of funny.”

With her eyes closed she said, “Poppy!!”

“Ok,” I said, “So what’s wrong?”

Holding her stomach and with a grimace she said, “I’m dizzy and can’t stand up.”

I responded, “You mean you can’t stand up as in vertical, upright, perpendicular to the floor, 180-degrees straight up, stand up kind of standing up?”

“Poppyyyyyyyy STOP!!  I’m really sick!”

“Ok, ok,” I said, and that was the beginning of many months of my dizzy daughter’s dizzy spells.

At first, we thought it might be the flu or cold kind of thing because she also felt sick to her stomach, and it’s always so easy to think it’s just the latest thing that’s “going around,” but as the weeks followed, the periodic dizzy spells continued.   A trip to the doctor couldn’t find anything wrong, so he suggested we keep an eye on her to see if anything else developed.  Sometimes she would go for days without a problem, and then some days the dizzy spells were so bad it was impossible for her to attend school—it’s hard to go to school when you can’t even stand up!

After missing an excessive number of days of school, back to the doctor she went, but the doctor still had no explanation and, unfortunately, no remedy.  This went on for about a full year when finally, much to our relief, we found a doctor that figured out the problem—Brittany had the dizzy symptoms of Meniere’s (pronounced “men-yairs”) disease.  The doctor gave her a prescription, but our hopes that the medication would be the solution were dashed when it ended up making her even more sick!

During this whole ordeal, my wife and I had been praying and asking the Lord Jesus for wisdom about what to do or to outright heal Brittany.  Now that she was having a problem with the medication, our prayers intensified!  We were thankful Brittany made it through the school year, and we were so grateful for the patience and understanding of her teachers throughout the months of her unavoidable absences, but questions raced through our minds—questions like, “How long can this go on?” “What about the next school year?”

While these unspoken questions caused us concern, summer was just around the corner, and we had an opportunity to go to Nicaragua as a family on a missions trip to help build a church—but what about Brittany?  “Should we take her?” “Should we cancel altogether?”  After praying, we decided to move forward and trust the Lord for Brittany’s condition and go ahead with our original plans to go to Nicaragua.

On the flight down to Nicaragua, I ended up sitting next to a medical doctor.  He was a nice guy and a bit chatty and was headed to a medical conference in Managua, the capital city of Nicaragua, where he would be speaking.  During the flight, he pulled out his laptop and started looking at a PowerPoint presentation, which was about healthy and diseased tissue in the human body.  I explained that I was a biologist and asked if he would mind if I read his PowerPoint as he reviewed it.

He answered, “Sure . . . only this is an old computer and the battery may die at any time.”

I said, “No problem,” and thanked him for letting me read along.

The first presentation he was reviewing was fairly long, but one I found rather interesting.  Then he fired up his next PowerPoint, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief.  It was titled, “Meniere’s Disease”!!  EXACTLY what Brittany had! With rapt attention, I carefully read every slide.

The presentation went through the history of Meniere’s disease, the symptoms and causes.  Then his slideshow started covering treatments, including a list of medications that had proven helpful as well as a list of side effects that might occur.  If that approach was unsuccessful for the patient, then surgery was the next step.  A series of slides followed that described the various surgical approaches.

The next slide seemed to be added as an afterthought and was labeled “Nonconventional Approaches.”  Under the title the word SALT jumped out at me.  The slide stated that because Meniere’s was caused by swelling in the inner ear, some patients may find relief from a reduced salt diet.  However, there had been no clinical testing to prove this approach.  I thought to myself after reading that, “I wonder if daughter Brittany has been a bit on the salty side?”

The moment I finished reading the part about the salt, his screen went blank—as his computer battery died.  Shaking my head, I mumbled in my heart, “Thank you, Jesus; I’m certain this was from you!!”  I discussed it briefly with the doctor as the plane began to land.  During our time in Nicaragua, Brittany didn’t salt any of her food and didn’t have any dizzy spells during the whole trip!

That was over six years ago, and Brittany is no longer my Dizzy Salty Daughter!

We prayed…..God heard.

We trusted…..God answered.

In our weak human condition, we joyfully give thanks to Whom thanks is due . . . He is a God who can be trusted!

Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the Name of the LORD our God.        –Psalm 20:7

Copyright © 2012 by William D. (Nick) Nichols

The following story happened to my wife and I . . .

That evening I learned that God not only had parted the Red Sea, but He could also part a crowd of people.   Nobody had been run over, and I was safe on the other side.  I was so grateful to the Lord.  I just didn’t understand the shocked look on my wife’s face!!

Our day had started in Mexico City.  My wife and I learned about a small town southwest of the city called Taxco, which was famous for its silver artisans.  Since we would be driving to Oaxaca, with Taxco being somewhat on the way, we decided to stop and do some shopping.

After arriving in this quaint little village situated on the side of a mountain, we discovered Taxco was so crowded with tourists and locals that it was difficult to find a place to park.  Eventually, we found a rather unusual location.  It was a square pit about seventy feet deep with one steep single lane to get in and out of the parking-pit.  Other cars were parked down there, so I cautiously drove our van down.

Our van was packed inside and loaded on top.  My wife and I with our three kids were on a three-month road trip in a twenty-year-old VW camper van.  We had so much luggage on top of the van that back in the States at Niagara Falls, I had managed to get our van sandwiched between the ceiling and floor in a parking garage.  We couldn’t budge until I unloaded some folding chairs off the top.  Being so loaded had me pretty concerned about our brakes giving out as I drove us down the steep drive into the parking-pit.

After I got the van parked and secured, we went shopping.  Taxco was a beautiful town with narrow twisting cobblestone streets and homes with white stucco walls and red tiled roofs.  The old colonial town’s main plaza had multiple silver shops in any direction one looked.  There were people everywhere, and the atmosphere was one of gala-enterprise.  We had a great time!  The locals were very friendly and the silver work was excellent and cheap!  We were enjoying ourselves so much that we stayed a little longer than we should have, and it was beginning to get dark.

Surprisingly, as dusk set in, the activity in the plaza increased.  Even more people began to come out after dinner to enjoy the evening.  It was so hard to leave, but we had business in Oaxaca the following day and had to go.  We worked our way through the crowds in the plaza back to our van.  While walking down the steep drive, I didn’t say anything to my wife, but I began having doubts about our van being able to make it back up out of the parking-pit.

After paying the parking attendant, we all piled into the van, and I started the old engine.  Sometimes it took a few tries, but this time the engine turned right over, coughed, belched some blue smoke and then we started up the steep drive.  About a third of the way up, the strain was too much; the engine died, and we rolled backwards down the drive to where I had started.  This time I gave it more gas and hit the drive faster.  That took us about two-thirds of the way up before the engine conked out.  We again rolled back to start.

I had my wife and kids get out to lighten the load, then I revved up the engine and hit the steep drive going as fast as I could.  The van sounded like it was going to blow.  Just as I made it to the top of the drive, I slammed on my brakes; there were too many people in the way, and I knew I couldn’t drive up onto the level street without hitting someone.  Then the van died, and I rolled back down to where my family was standing.

Now, my wife was looking worried.  Our three young children thought it was great fun watching their Poppy drive up and down, up and down.  I told my wife that she would have to go up on the street and stop the people at the top of the drive so I could get out without running anybody down.  By this time it was dark, and the street lights threw an eerie cast of dancing shadows over us and the pit.  Reluctantly, my wife said she would try to stop the crowd, and when it was clear, she would signal me with a wave of her hand.

I prayed, “Lord, somehow please help me get out of this pit without killing anyone.”  It was a simple prayer from the bottom of my heart; then up went my wife with the kids in tow.  I sat at the bottom of the drive revving my engine and waiting.  It seemed like it was taking her forever–then I saw it, her signal.  I hit the gas.  The engine was straining, but I was flying up that drive like a speeding bullet!  With one big bump, I crested the drive and stopped right in the middle of the level street.

Praise the Lord!  I hadn’t run over anybody!  My wife came running over with an awful look on her face and yelled, “Why did you come up!!??  I didn’t signal you!!!”  Stunned, I said in disbelief, “But I saw you signal me!”  Then I noticed standing behind her was a large crowd of people about twenty feet from the van looking at us.  I turned and looked out the opposite window and saw another large crowd of people about twenty feet from the van also staring at us.  There was a completely empty zone, void of people on both sides of the van.

I realized the Lord had just performed a miracle!!  For Moses, God had parted the waters; for us, He had parted the people!  No one was hurt.  I was profoundly amazed.  My wife was relieved.  And the kids wanted to see Poppy do it again!

“Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the LORD drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.” –Exodus 14:21,22  (NIV)

PS: The above story happened to us in 1987.  This is my wife’s comment after editing the story for this blog post:  “Yep!!! Truly amazing to this very day!!  Some things can ONLY be explained by God.”
Copyright © 2010 by William D (Nick) Nichols