A Treasury of Miracles for Teens Page 3

  Seven years later, when. Jared passed away one cool September morning, Julie was at his side, and so were her parents. They were believers now, people who had come to believe in the very real presence of God in their lives. That day Julie spoke the words from that special Bible verse at his funeral service.

  “My brother’s entire life was a miracle,” she told a crowd of several hundred who had come to bid her brother good-bye. “But it took a certain visitor one summer night to remind me that God was in control. My brother’s in heaven now and for the first time his healing is complete.” Then she looked up toward heaven, tears streaming down her face.

  “I love you, Jared. Save me a spot at the lunch table.”

  Miracle on Two Battlefields

  Ben Wiggins had two sisters, but he never knew either of them. The first died at birth. And the second died tragically at age two. He grew up as an only child, and he never forgot how much his parents had lost.

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” he’d tell her when he was old enough to drive. “You’ll always have me around. I’m never going anywhere.”

  Ben’s mother, Sarah, would grin sadly and rough up her son’s dark brown hair.

  “God has taken two of my babies home,” she’d say. “But he knows how much a mother can handle, Ben. You’re the one he left for me and your father.”

  But when Ben turned eighteen, he enlisted in the U.S. Army. Not long after, the Gulf War began and Ben was assigned a place on the front line. The idea of losing Ben on a battlefield thousands of miles from home terrified his parents, but they prayed constantly for their son and believed God would protect him.

  “Please, God, let us know when he needs our prayers,” Sarah would pray each night. “And bring Ben home safely to us. He’s all we have left, Lord.”

  The initial drive of the Gulf War figured to be the most dangerous. A solid line of U.S. troops took their position against Iraq and prepared for battle. Ben was among them, silently praying words of his own. God, be with me. Let me survive this battle. Please, God.

  Finally, the moment of battle arrived and Ben pressed across the border into Iraq, shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of Army men. The battle that ensued was intense and fast. One hour led to two and it looked as though the U.S. troops would be wildly successful.

  During a brief lull in the action, Ben was resting for a second when he felt someone grab his arm. He spun around and looked straight into the eyes of an Iraqi soldier, a teenager like himself. The man had a gun aimed directly at Ben’s face.

  In angry, short bursts the Iraqi shouted something in a language Ben couldn’t understand. Ben stood there, afraid to move. Suddenly the man hit Ben on the side of the face with the butt of the rifle, and pointed in the opposite direction from his squad. Ben had no choice but to start walking.

  God! Help me! Please …

  Several times over the next few minutes Ben considered shouting for help. Instead, he snuck a look behind him every few seconds and realized his squad hadn’t noticed his disappearance. That meant one thing: He was on his own, marching at gunpoint toward the enemy’s camp.

  The Iraqi soldier ordered him up a hill onto a sandy desert bluff where they stopped. Again the soldier barked something at him. Ben blinked, not knowing what to do. His mouth was dry and his heart felt like it had slipped into a pit in his stomach. God, what’s happened? How did I get here? Don’t let me die, God.

  At that instant, the soldier kicked Ben and pointed to the ground. Fearing for his life, Ben lowered himself to the dusty ground below. Again the soldier kicked at him, forcing him to lay on his stomach. This is it, God. I’m not going to make it without a miracle. A dozen memories flashed through Ben’s mind. His high school soccer team celebrating a state title two years earlier, his girlfriend dancing with him at the prom, his parents praying for him before he left.

  His parents! That was it! He knew his mother was praying for him every day—she’d promised she would. The Iraqi soldier barked something else and dug the tip of the rifle into the back of his skull. Ben drew a shaky breath, not sure whether it would be his last. Then he closed his eyes, buried his face in the powdery desert dirt, and prayed like he’d never done before. God, please let my mother know I’m in danger. She should be praying for me.

  Moments earlier, across the world in Austin, Texas, Sarah Wiggins sat up straight in bed and screamed.

  “Al, wake up!” Her voice was frantic and her husband shot up, his eyes wide and disoriented.

  “What is it?” he asked breathlessly.

  “It’s Ben. He’s hurt or in trouble. Something’s wrong, Al. I can feel it.”

  Al Wiggins sighed and relaxed somewhat. “Sarah, he’s in Kuwait. There’s no way you could know whether he was in trouble or not.”

  Sarah nodded, her heart racing. “Yes, Al. I prayed that God would let me know when he needed our help. Why else would I wake up in the middle of the night?”

  Al considered that. He spoke tenderly to calm his wife. “Let’s say he is in trouble.” He touched Sarah’s cheek. “What can we do about it, honey? We’re too far away to help him.”

  “He’s on a battlefield, but so are we. All of life’s a battle when it comes to good and evil, Al.” Sarah’s heart rate returned to normal and she sat up even straighter. “There is a way we can help Ben, even now. We can pray for him.”

  “Okay.” Al nodded and took his wife’s hands in his. “Let’s pray.”

  Sarah bowed her head and closed her eyes as she began to pray out loud. “Lord, you’ve woken me from a sound sleep. I just know it’s because Ben is in trouble somewhere. I don’t know what he needs or where he is, Lord, but you do. Please help him, God. Whatever he needs, whatever danger he’s in, please help him. In your holy name, amen.”

  Back in Kuwait, at that same instant, Ben heard a distinct voice speaking very near his ear.

  “Don’t worry. You are not going to die today. God is with you.”

  Ben looked around, but other than the Iraqi soldier, he was completely alone on the desert bluff. The realization sent chills down his arms and he knew that the words were true, even though the tip of the soldier’s rifle still dug into his skull. You’re here, God, he prayed in desperation. I hear you, I feel your presence. I beg you for a miracle, God … please.

  The moment Ben finished praying, the Iraqi soldier shouted another several sentences. Then he yanked the gun away from Ben’s head and inexplicably ran down a sandy embankment.

  Ben could hardly breathe. He was alive! And for now, at least, the danger had passed. He lay there a minute and tried to calm himself. Thank you, God. Whatever just happened … thank you. With slow, cautious movements, he stood up and started across the desert to the place where his group of men was still advancing. Ducking low, he ran with every bit of strength he had until he was safely among U.S. soldiers once more.

  Not until two weeks later did Sarah learn what had happened to her son. Ben was back at base and because of the strange capture was allowed to call home. As Ben’s story began to tumble out, Sarah felt chill bumps along her spine.

  “When did it happen, Son?” She held her breath, already knowing what Ben was going to say.

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “No, the time, Ben. I need the exact time.”

  “The exact time?” Ben thought a moment and then told her roughly the hour that he’d been captured. “That would’ve been about two in the morning your time.”

  Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth. “I was praying for you, Ben. God woke me up and had me pray for you.”

  Across the miles in Kuwait, Ben’s heart soared at his mother’s statement. “I knew it. I prayed for a miracle, Mom. I asked God to let you know I was in trouble. And that’s just what he did.”

  When Life Changed in an Instant

  Rain poured from the skies over the town of Santa Fe, New Mexico, that March day, but Michelle Conley’s future couldn’t have been brighter. She was an intelligent, pretty senior at Southridge High School w
ith dozens of friends and a fiancé whom she loved dearly. Michelle had known Bobby Barrows since the two were kids. Bobby was three years older than her, tall with dark brown hair and serious eyes. They planned to marry sometime after he graduated from college in fourteen months.

  “You’re so young,” Michelle’s mother had told her more than once since the couple had gotten engaged. “Sometimes I wonder if you should wait, dear. Go away to school. Take some time.”

  But Michelle would only give her mother a kind smile. “I’ve loved Bobby since we were kids, Mom. That kind of love shouldn’t have to wait. Besides, we have everything important in common.”

  Finally, just a month earlier, both her parents and his agreed that the two of them were ready. They would seek premarital counseling through their church and sometime a year from the upcoming summer they would get married.

  There were four days of school left before spring break that rainy Monday afternoon, and Michelle was excited about having a week off. She and Bobby planned to go hiking with some friends one day and take a shopping trip another. It wouldn’t be as exciting as some of their other spring breaks had been, but it would be relaxing. And with all the activities of her senior year weighing on her, Michelle was looking forward to some rest.

  It was a twenty-minute commute from her house in a mountainous suburb to her job in downtown Santa Fe. As she drove through the rain, her mind raced with all that lay ahead. How quickly the months ahead would pass, how soon she would cross the stage at graduation. Prom … the senior trip … a summer with Bobby. All of it lay in front of her like a dream come true.

  The rain fell harder than before and Michelle flipped her windshield wipers to a higher level. Suddenly she remembered her father’s warning as she’d left the house ten minutes ago. “Drive safe, Michelle; the storm’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

  Because of the weather she took surface streets into Santa Fe. The drive was uneventful until she was about three miles from work. Suddenly her small Honda began to shake from the force of the wind. Nervous, she looked ahead and saw a stop sign. She slid her foot over to the car’s brake. Suddenly everything went black.

  Minutes earlier, Jonas Green had stepped out of the auto body shop where he worked to check on the weather. As he gazed toward the sky he was shocked to see a whirling funnel-shaped cloud descending onto the roadway before him.

  The Santa Fe area had occasionally experienced a tornado during monsoon season, but it was still too early for monsoons, and the whirling desert windstorms were typically too small to do much damage. Now, Jonas analyzed the funnel cloud before him. It was slender but obviously still strong enough to tear the roof off a building. Jonas looked around and made a quick assessment. Other than the shop, the stretch of roadway in that part of town was surrounded mainly by open fields, so there were no buildings in danger. But the tornado was easily big enough to lift a car in its path.

  Jonas tore his eyes from the whirling cloud and scanned the road. It was clear of cars except for a blue Honda, which was slowing to a stop directly beneath the descending funnel cloud. The driver looked to be a young woman, completely unaware of the narrow swirling cloud hovering over her car. Jonas waved at her frantically.

  “Tornado!” he shouted.

  But at that instant the cloud engulfed the vehicle, picked it up, and flipped it like a child’s toy three times in midair. Jeff watched in horror as the force of the wind slammed the Honda into a ditch along the side of the road and then sucked it back into the air once more before slamming it down on its wheels in the middle of an adjacent field. The funnel cloud then turned indifferently and danced across the vacant land toward the open desert, losing strength until it disappeared.

  Jonas raced to the phone and placed a 911 call, then ran across the street and into the field toward the battered Honda. Help might be there soon, but Jonas wasn’t sure it was necessary. No one could live through that, he thought.

  Inside the car, Michelle tentatively opened her eyes and saw that she was in the middle of an empty field. What had happened? How had she wound up here? She blinked, wondering if it was some sort of crazy dream. But when she opened her eyes again, she was still there, in the middle of a field.

  Suddenly she realized the windows of her blue Honda were gone, and her body lay partway out the empty back frame. Her head rested on the car’s twisted trunk, while the rest of her body lay at an awkward angle along the backseat. Her left leg was crushed between the front seat and the door. The metal where Michelle’s head rested was sharp and jagged, and Michelle started to pull her head back into the car. But when she tried, a searing pain burned in her back and her body remained motionless. Panic gripped her heart and a wave of terror washed over her. Move, she ordered herself. Get up! But she lay perfectly still.

  “Dear God, help me!”

  At that instant a man reached the car. He was breathless and obviously amazed to find the young woman alive. “Don’t move, honey,” he said. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Michelle ignored the man and tried with all her being to lift her head. When nothing happened, she tried to move her feet and her hands. There was no movement at all, only the intense burning in her back.

  “God!” she screamed again. “Help me! Please help me!”

  “Listen, stay calm.” The man stood near Michelle and moved her blond hair out of her eyes. “My name’s Jonas and I’ll help you until the ambulance gets here. Tell me your name and phone number and I’ll call your parents.”

  Michelle moaned, then choked out the number. The pain was unbearable, and she no longer even noticed the uncomfortable twisted metal beneath her head. “Tell them to hurry … please.”

  Jonas disappeared with the information. Suddenly two more men ran up to the car. One of them leaned toward her and moved a section of hair off her face. “You’re gonna be fine, Michelle. Just lay still.”

  “W-w-what happened?” Michelle’s teeth were chattering and she realized the rain was hitting her face.

  The other man tore off his jacket and held it over her head. “It was a tornado. Your car was picked up and tossed over here. But you’re gonna be okay. Just keep believing that.”

  “Are you a believer?” the first man asked.

  Unable to move her head, Michelle looked at him from the corners of her eyes. There was something strangely peaceful about the man’s face. “Yes. I believe. I believe very much.”

  “Good.” It was the second man. “We’re praying for you, Michelle. You’re going to be okay. Believe that, okay?”

  She swallowed, glad that some of the fear was fading. But at that moment, spots began dancing before her eyes and the voices of the men faded away. Before she lost consciousness, Michelle had just one thought. How did they know my name?

  When she came to, paramedics were working to get her out of the wrecked Honda and she could hear her father’s voice.

  “Michelle, can you hear me? It’s Daddy, honey.”

  Michelle opened her eyes and saw him standing behind the medical workers. Nearby her mother was crying hysterically. Tears welled in Michelle’s eyes. If her mother was that upset, then something must be terribly wrong.

  “Dad …” Her voice was barely loud enough to hear over the sound of sirens. “Please make Mom stop crying.”

  Her father wheeled around. “You’re scaring her, Mary! Please stop crying.” After that there was silence.

  Michelle tried to move but again there was no response except for a deep burning in her spine. She moved her eyes all about her and saw Jonas, the first man, the one who had promised to call her parents. But the other two men were gone. “Daddy, what happened?” Michelle whispered. “Look at my car.”

  “Don’t worry about your car.” He peered between two rescue workers, his eyes damp. “Let’s take care of you.”

  She searched for Jonas again. “Thanks for calling my parents.”

  Jonas nodded. He looked too sad to speak.

  “Where’s the o
ther two guys? The ones who came as you were leaving?”

  Jonas lowered his brow and shook his head, confused. “I’m the only one who’s been here except for the paramedics. No one else is at the shop today.”

  Michelle closed her eyes once more as the paramedics fitted a brace around her neck. Two other men began using a powerful tool to cut through the window frame and free her from the nearly unrecognizable remains of the Honda. As her limp body was being strapped to a straight board, Michelle overheard paramedics discussing her back injury with her parents.

  Suddenly the images that had been in her mind before the accident came back again. No, God! Not my back. Please don’t let my back be broken. She wanted to beg God to let her walk again, but she was too afraid to form the words. Even in her heart. Things seemed to be happening at a crazy pace around her. A helicopter landed nearby and paramedics rushed her toward it. In the background she could hear her mother crying again, and a burst of panic made it difficult to breathe.

  “What about my parents? Can they come?” She was terrified, her throat so tight she could barely speak.

  “They’ll meet us at the hospital.” A paramedic leaned over her. “Try to relax, honey. We’ll get you there as fast as we can.”

  Michelle closed her eyes. As everything began to fade again, she remembered the two men, their calm faces and gentle words. You’ll be okay. Believe that … Believe that … How strange it was that Jonas hadn’t seen them. And how had they known her name? There seemed to be no explanation, but as she was lifted into the helicopter she felt the peace from their message once more.