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4.24.2018

Touched by an Angel


Greetings All,

     This week's "thought" comes to you from Eric Metaxas and is found in his lesser know book entitled, "Miracles - What They Are, Why They Happen, and How They Can Change Your Life."  Metaxas  graduated from Yale with a degree in English and is much better known for his lengthy and best-selling book, Bonhoeffer - Pastor, Martyr, Propet, Spy  or his other more popular book Amazing Grace, about William Wilberforce and his heroic campaign to end slavery in the British Empire.

















In this book, "Miracles," Mataxas deals only with those miracles cited in Scripture, or told to him by friends and associates whose integrity he trusts implicitly, so as to avoid sharing stories from people whose character and credibility he cannot personally vouch for. (He even records for us the dream which he himself had, that led him to write the book on Bonhoeffer.) The stories come from personal friends who either witnessed or experienced phenomena that apart from a miraculous explanation is otherwise inexplicable. Phenomena whose veracity he might even have questioned if he did not personally know the various individuals. For any interested in this topic of the miraculous, this book is well worth the price. Most of the stories are too long to quote, so I share one of the shorter ones. Enjoy.


Touched by an Angel

     "My friend Eva Meyer was thirteen and a freshman at Staples High School in Westport, Connecticut.  In the first few days of school (this was in the 1980's) she made some new friends and one invited her to a sleepover one Friday night in early September. Eva soon realized these girls were rather different from the ones she had been used to spending time with. For one thing, they were all interested in the occult. In fact, they decided they wanted to have a seance that night. One of the girls was heavily into the music of "The Doors," and said she wanted to invoke the spirit of Jim Morrison (who had died July 3, 1971). But Eva did not wish to "break on through to the other side."  She knew far too much about the dark side of the spirit realm to think it was a good way to spend the evening. She simply could not go through with it and said so to her new friends.
     So the girls decided they would all take a walk to the beach instead. The girl whose house the sleepover was at, lived within walking distance of Compo Beach. The quickest route there was straight down Hillspoint Road and over the Hillspoint Road Bridge, which crosses over I-95, the heavily trafficked interstate highway that runs from Maine to Florida. When the girls got to the bridge, Eva saw that there was a six-foot-tall wooden stockade fence blocking the road. Evidently there was "roadwork" being done on the bridge, although they could not see past the tall fence to see exactly what was being done. But the girl whose house they they were staying at told them she climbed the fence all the time and just walked across the bridge. She insisted that she had done it many times and explained that they just didn't want cars driving across it, but it was absolutely fine to walk across it.
     Eva explains that for "some strange reason" they insisted that she go first. They would boost her up and help her get over the fence. To this day Eva cannot figure out why she agreed to go first, but she did. She says that at the time she was a "five-foot-two, maybe one hundred forty pounds, somewhat chubby, very weak thirteen-year-old girl," who had never done a single pull-up in her life. Maybe this is why she agreed to letting the three of them help her up and over first, or why they suggested it.  So the three girls boosted her up with their hands and essentially heaved her over the six-foot fence.
     It was in the next split second that Eva saw the trouble. To put it in her own words, precisely as she typed them to me: "THERE WAS NO BRIDGE THERE!!!  NOTHING!!!"  It was an unspeakable horror, the sort of thing about which one has reoccurring nightmares. Eva remembers in that briefest of moments seeing a huge semi-truck roaring right beneath her flailing legs, which were kicking in midair, and she remembers the feel of the rough top of the stockade fence which she desperately tried to grasp with her hand as her body went over.
     Instinctively she screamed, "Jesus!!!"  Then, just as she lost her grip and began to plummet to what she knew would be her death on the highway below, with the endless speeding trucks and cars, she felt herself being lifted up.  She saw nothing, but in the blink of an eye she felt herself being scooped up in midair and carried back over the fence and placed on solid ground -- but a full ten feet away from where the three girls had tossed her over.  She says that she remembers landing -- "my arms stretched out wide, as though a parachute had brought me to a soft landing." And then she remembers the unhinged looks on the faces of the three other girls. She remembers that they were "utterly horrified, scared witless." Eva says they were, "white as sheets, with mouths agape, and eyes wide in terror."  All three of them shrieked and instantly bolted from the scene, running as fast as they could. 
     She remembers the feeling of those moments. She felt strangely calm, but confused too. She knew without a doubt that in that moment Jesus had miraculously saved her life. She simply walked home not telling a soul what happened, but remembers clearly that not one of those three girls ever spoke to her again. They wouldn't even glance in her direction or come near her. [Twenty-some-odd years later, around the time of her high school reunion, Eva discovered through Facebook that the girl whose house they had been at was a full-fledged Satanist -- her page filled with pentagrams and other dark, occult symbols]."
     If you read the book you will find one other amazing story about Eva later in her life.  One which may explain why she was so miraculously spared.

Just some food for thought!
In the Service of Jesus, Pastor Jeff