Miracles and Great Wonders You've experienced being a christian.

Irelandcool

This is basically any personal experience with miracles or personal encounter with either God, His angels, saints or even (if your catholic like me) the virgin mary. This could be from reading the bible, prayer, rosary, a blessing, confession or while on pilgrimage at a places like Knock, Medjugorje , Jerusalem Vatican City, Lourdes or Fatima, any places like that.
The miracle could be you or someone else find their faith, getting cured miraculous, ending up finding the right treatment after a pilgrimage/pray, to somethings as dramatica as stuff like in Medjugorje like dancing sun, spinning cross, weeping statues/paintings, someone/you receiving their vocation/calling to the priesthood(romancatholic)/Pastor(protestant/baptist etc) or to the Nuns.

katydid

Irelandcool wrote: »

This is basically any personal experience with miracles or personal encounter with either God, His angels, saints or even (if your catholic like me) the virgin mary. This could be from reading the bible, prayer, rosary, a blessing, confession or while on pilgrimage at a places like Knock, Medjugorje , Jerusalem Vatican City, Lourdes or Fatima, any places like that.
The miracle could be you or someone else find their faith, getting cured miraculous, ending up finding the right treatment after a pilgrimage/pray, to somethings as dramatica as stuff like in Medjugorje like dancing sun, spinning cross, weeping statues/paintings, someone/you receiving their vocation/calling to the priesthood(romancatholic)/Pastor(protestant/baptist etc) or to the Nuns.

To be honest, I've never experienced anything of the kind and I have no interest in. I experience the wonder of God every day, and that's enough for me. I don't need pyrotechnics. Having said that, I still remember the sermon our priest gave which inspired me to email her and say I wanted to be a lay minister. Five years on, and I'm, hopefully, giving people food for thought by taking services and giving sermons which are my thoughts on the scripture readings of the day. I suppose it was a defining moment for me, but no pyrotechnics. Just a "yes" moment.

homer911

Becoming a Christian is a personal encounter with God. It might be a sudden revelation or something discerned gradually but it's still a personal encounter..

am946745

Personally entering the Basilica of Guadalupe in Mexico City.

J C

Being Saved.

JohnBee

What exactly is a personal encounter with god?

antiskeptic

homer911 wrote: »

Becoming a Christian is a personal encounter with God. It might be a sudden revelation or something discerned gradually but it's still a personal encounter..

And probably perceived by the recipient as the most miraculous thing. Perhaps discerned by others in the changes wrought in a person, perhaps not. But for the person themselves, astounding.

homer911

JohnBee wrote: »

What exactly is a personal encounter with god?

To me, a personal encounter with God is a time or moment when we feel his presence in a a very real, almost tangible way. This could occur at time in the life of a Christian but is often associated with a person becoming a Christian/being saved/being born again

hinault

When I receive the Eucharist at Mass.

katydid

hinault wrote: »

When I receive the Eucharist at Mass.

I agree with that (Well, not the mass bit, I'm not welcome to receive it there)

I choke up every time I receive the Eucharist, because I feel overwhelmed.

homer911

JohnBee wrote: »

What exactly is a personal encounter with god?

http://www.christiantoday.com/article/nicky.gumbel.the.catholic.church.is.leading.the.way.in.evangelisation/58774.htm

antiskeptic

Outside of the miracle of salvation - something which I've found hasn't ever left me despite my prodigalness - I've not had that many encounters with what could be described as miraculous. There has been occasional sense of a personal word or instruction - along with what you might call direct interventions. Then there's stories from those I'd trust implicitly, like my mother

I used to commute across Dublin on a motorbike. It had a petrol gauge and a low warning light for petrol. Given the low tank capacity, you'd tend to run from full to as empty as you could - otherwise you'd spend your life in petrol stations. Due to gauge imprecision, I used to rely on the low warning light: when that lit up, I knew I had x number of miles in the tank.

Then the warning light blew and I had only the gauge to rely on. Too busy/lazy to change the bulb I inevitably got it wrong and ran out of petrol.

In fact, over a period of perhaps two years (I know, I know) I ran out of petrol 7 times.

This particular motorcycle ran out of petrol as follows. You'd be riding along when you'd hear the engine begin to stutter. At that point you had to wobble the motorcycle from side to side to encourage the last dregs of petrol to flow down to the carburettors. As the last dregs got used up the engine would gasp more and more until it finally died. When it died, you'd pull in the clutch and coast to a halt. From first stutter to final dying you might extract, I don't know, maybe a half a mile from it?

On each of those 7 occasions I coasted to a halt onto a petrol forecourt.

I once plotted out a map of my commuting route and placed all the stations both on it and within a half mile off it and had an atheist maths guru calculate out the chances of doing as I had done, landing in a forecourt each time. I can't remember the exact figure he placed on it but it was something like a 1 chance in the number of atoms in the universe or something.



Here, as on every other occasion, my being impressed was less to do with the miracle aspect and more with the sheer style involved. This, a fathers attention to my being merely inconvenienced. Along with a sense of humor.

hinault

katydid wrote: »

I agree with that (Well, not the mass bit, I'm not welcome to receive it there)

I choke up every time I receive the Eucharist, because I feel overwhelmed.

For every Catholic, receiving the Eucharist is to be in the real presence of Jesus Christ.

The OP asks a very good question. I can't say that I've ever had any other direct contact with God.
Thinking about it the fact that I have been given life and health, is one a tangible property that God exists, in my opinion.

homer911

It would be interesting to hear from a poster who was "baptised in the Spirit"

katydid

hinault wrote: »

For every Catholic, receiving the Eucharist is to be in the real presence of Jesus Christ.

The OP asks a very good question. I can't say that I've ever had any other direct contact with God.
Thinking about it the fact that I have been given life and health, is one a tangible property that God exists, in my opinion.

Indeed, any Catholic, Roman or otherwise. But not everyone feels it emotionally.

The OP's question wasn't about direct contact with God...

Thisname

Being born again!

antiskeptic

Another one from the archives. Again it is the sheer style and subtle touch which touched me rather than the miracle itself. This time the story from my mother, who was saved some years before me.

The experience of salvation, for many who've testified to it, involves a nether-region where they find themselves questioning God's existence: does he, doesn't he, how do I know? It's a period akin to spiritual receptors, long dead, beginning to awaken. The signals are confusing, fuzzy: "there is something in this God-thing but how do I believe?"

My mother had rowed in alongside a woman in her town, witnessing and supporting her in this time. The woman was confused and troubled and indeed desperate but as is to be expected, needed to experience things for herself - no amount of support, encouragement and personal testimony was going to enable her across the line into a personally held belief.

Anyway.

During this period, the woman is heading across Tescos carpark with her messages and her young daughter in tow. The daughter is clutching in her hand one of those helium-filled balloons: red with pictures of bears on it. In the kerfuffle of getting messages/daughter into the car, the balloon is let go of and up, up and away into the sky it goes. Tears..

A morning or two later the woman goes out into the back garden to put rubbish in the bin and there, caught by it's string in a bush outside the door is a balloon. A helium-filled ballon. Red with pictures of bears on it.

It was her sign. She had crossed the threshold.

antiskeptic

Folk testify too to a period after they are saved when it seems like God rows in particularly close in order to copper-fasten the early-day belief, to make concrete the knowledge that he does indeed exist and that he does indeed care. On a par with those early years after a child's birth when the parents attend to every single need, no matter how slight. The period before some growing up has to take place. The period of milk.

I'd left work on the northside of city on my motorbike and was heading down to to Wicklow to visit my mam and my sister who'd arrived back on a visit from England. It was a hot summers day and I decided to forego wearing my gloves - letting the warm breeze flow up the sleeves of my bike jacket. I'd a elasticated cargo net spanning the pillion seat - a place to stuff messages and the like. I stuffed the gloves under it and set off.

On arrival home that still-warm night I went to retrieve the gloves and .. gone. "Ah feck!" Not only were they expensive gloves but they fit me like the proverbial.. and I loved them.

"I'll head back to Mams" I thought, "they'll have fallen off along the way". Without thinking about it a second longer I set off back the 20 or so miles to my mams.

It was dark by now. I'm riding along whilst trying to keep an eye on the other side of the road, especially the gutters in case the gloves have been knocked in by a passing car. For the first mile or so I've street lights to help - although cars coming the other way mask portions of the road. Then I'm onto unlit country road and have trouble scanning effectively not being able to go slow enough for a finger-tip search, what with cars behind me.

Doubt soon begins to set in: "You're looking for a pair of black leather gloves on a black tarmac road, in the dark, with the headlight of a motorbike aimed at your side of the road as your only light! Being stubborn though..

I'd gone through Greystones and was heading towards Kilcoole when the doubt became terminal: "the last time you saw your gloves was when you left work you dope - you most likely lost them early on when you were whizzing down the motorway to mams!"

My hand unconsciously eased off on the throttle the more I calculated my chances of success and I scanned ahead for somewhere to wheel the bike around and head home.

Just as I prepared for the turn a voice in my head said:

"Don't stop, go on"

It hadn't the sense of my own tenacity, rather (in retrospect) it was a gentle command. So, I rolled on - not quite knowing what I was doing. I burbled into Kicoole and on out the other side. As I came to the last bit of streetlit road before leaving the town I spotted my gloves on the road ahead, my headlight picking up a bit of reflective piping stitched into the gloves. Right there, in the middle of the road within a couple of feet of each other. I couldn't miss them.

antiskeptic

My dad died in 2007 and in the weeks leading up to that, the family took up residence in his house to be near the hospital. When he died we stayed on there organizing the funeral and attending to immediate affairs. My older sister, being the responsible one settled into dealing with financial affairs: bills, retrieving stock from his business, the will and the like.

Except she couldn't find the will. For my dad was a bit of a paper hoarder: he had files upon files: cheque stubs going back, old electricity bills. Filed neatly but hardly systematically. And he was an artist to boot so there were rolls of paper stacked up everywhere: pictures we'd drawn as kids, old and new sketches, photos. It was a veritable treasure trove of memories - especially for me, who tends to chuck things as soon as their immediate importance has diminished.

She wasn't doing a systematic search for the will but in dealing with all the paper she was aware of it remaining undiscovered and it was proving an underlying upset to her - the sense of not being able to get the process moving without it.

One evening she was sitting at his desk organizing stuff and she got the sense to turn around. Behind her was a bookcase stuffed with books and stacks of rolled up sketches, artists papers and the like. Her hand moved up and took hold of one non-descript roll of sketches from the jungle of rolls. She unrolled it and there in amongst the sheets was my fathers will.

My sister is and remains an unbeliever but she and my other unbelieving sister would testify to the "atmosphere" that settled over that period of my fathers death: where things just seemed to fall into place and and sense of peace settled like a blanket over the underlying sense of bereavement. So much so that when that peace lifted after a few weeks the two of them actually voiced complaint at it's passing.

Kiwi in IE

antiskeptic wrote: »

Outside of the miracle of salvation - something which I've found hasn't ever left me despite my prodigalness - I've not had that many encounters with what could be described as miraculous. There has been occasional sense of a personal word or instruction - along with what you might call direct interventions. Then there's stories from those I'd trust implicitly, like my mother

I used to commute across Dublin on a motorbike. It had a petrol gauge and a low warning light for petrol. Given the low tank capacity, you'd tend to run from full to as empty as you could - otherwise you'd spend your life in petrol stations. Due to gauge imprecision, I used to rely on the low warning light: when that lit up, I knew I had x number of miles in the tank.

Then the warning light blew and I had only the gauge to rely on. Too busy/lazy to change the bulb I inevitably got it wrong and ran out of petrol.

In fact, over a period of perhaps two years (I know, I know) I ran out of petrol 7 times.

This particular motorcycle ran out of petrol as follows. You'd be riding along when you'd hear the engine begin to stutter. At that point you had to wobble the motorcycle from side to side to encourage the last dregs of petrol to flow down to the carburettors. As the last dregs got used up the engine would gasp more and more until it finally died. When it died, you'd pull in the clutch and coast to a halt. From first stutter to final dying you might extract, I don't know, maybe a half a mile from it?

On each of those 7 occasions I coasted to a halt onto a petrol forecourt.

I once plotted out a map of my commuting route and placed all the stations both on it and within a half mile off it and had an atheist maths guru calculate out the chances of doing as I had done, landing in a forecourt each time. I can't remember the exact figure he placed on it but it was something like a 1 chance in the number of atoms in the universe or something.



Here, as on every other occasion, my being impressed was less to do with the miracle aspect and more with the sheer style involved. This, a fathers attention to my being merely inconvenienced. Along with a sense of humor.

Hahahahaha! I had exactly the same petrol gage issue with my old car. But as I am an atheist, everytime I ran out of petrol (about 4 times in one year) I found myself miles away from a petrol station and having to embarrassingly ring family or friends for assistance.

lazygal

Kiwi in IE wrote: »

Hahahahaha! I had exactly the same petrol gage issue with my old car. But as I am an atheist, everytime I ran out of petrol (about 4 times in one year) I found myself miles away from a petrol station and having to embarrassingly ring family or friends for assistance.

Maybe God sorted out the phone and relatives being available for you. He's really busy with all that stuff so he's no time left to stop abortion and gay marriage from happening I think.

Delirium

lazygal wrote: »

Maybe God sorted out the phone and relatives being available for you. He's really busy with all that stuff so he's no time left to stop abortion and gay marriage from happening I think.

MOD NOTE

Please remember you're posting in the Christianity forum. So please refrain from the mocking posts.

Thanks for your attention.

katydid

SW wrote: »

MOD NOTE

Please remember you're posting in the Christianity forum. So please refrain from the mocking posts.

Thanks for your attention.

Surely Christians can handle a bit of mocking? Why do we always have to be so sensitive? (I say that as a Christian)

some1whothinks

katydid wrote: »

Surely Christians can handle a bit of mocking? Why do we always have to be so sensitive? (I say that as a Christian)

Ditto. To respond to Antiskeptic...really? Just really? You are aware that "God helped me find my car keys will/balloons/gloves" is a meme among atheists and non-believers, a mocking point as an example of the low level of evidence people such as yourself use to judge whether or not there is a god and whether or not that god interacts with this world?

katydid

some1whothinks wrote: »

Ditto. To respond to Antiskeptic...really? Just really? You are aware that "God helped me find my car keys will/balloons/gloves" is a meme among atheists and non-believers, a mocking point as an example of the low level of evidence people such as yourself use to judge whether or not there is a god and whether or not that god interacts with this world?

Less of the "people such as yourself", please. I don't say prayers to St. Anthony when I lose my glasses, or think that if I find them, it was a sign from God. I think God has better things to be doing than finding my glasses.

That doesn't mean I don't believe that God influences our lives; I just believe it's on a far larger, more metaphysical scale. I find connection with God when I go to church and connect with other people in shared worship, and I find an especial connection when I take the Eucharist, because of my belief that this is the ultimate communion with the divine. When I pray to God to help me through an illness or a difficulty, I'm not asking him to send me some money or some miracle cure; I'm asking, trying to focus my mind on invoking the much underestimated aspect of God, the Holy Spirit, to give me the strength to do whatever it is I have to do.

Going back to my point about mockery - I have no problem with it, but I would prefer respectful scepticism to mockery. I can understand how people have a problem with religious belief, but it would be good if that scepticism involved open enquiry of believers, and a readiness, if not to agree, at least to respect them. And to realise it's far more complicated than a simplistic dismissal of all belief. Phrases like "people such as you" aren't really helpful to an open and respectful exchange of views...

antiskeptic

some1whothinks wrote: »

Ditto. To respond to Antiskeptic...really? Just really? You are aware that "God helped me find my car keys will/balloons/gloves" is a meme among atheists and non-believers, a mocking point as an example of the low level of evidence people such as yourself use to judge whether or not there is a god and whether or not that god interacts with this world?

I wasn't suggesting these as evidence for God (since I'd already concluded God exists before these events).

As an atheist you're welcome to consider a chance-in-a-squillion of rolling up onto a petrol forecourt on empty 7 times on the bounce as chance. Ditto an identical balloon to the one lost (I wasn't suggesting it was the same one) appearing under those circumstances by chance. You've little option, have you?

I mean, you'd be saying the same thing if I rolled up on a forecourt on empty 107 times instead of 7. If you're not impressed by a chance in a squillion then why a chance in a 100 squillion?

As one who has concluded otherwise that God exists (and who knows something of his m.o.), I'm in a different circumstance than you and can reasonably conclude chance an outlandish explanation.

antiskeptic

katydid wrote: »

Surely Christians can handle a bit of mocking? Why do we always have to be so sensitive? (I say that as a Christian)

Mocking has to involve a degree of rigor of thought. It has to identify a weak point in the opponents position and niggle at it.

Something some1whothinks hasn't thought of.

dieseldog

I've been on mission trips to parts of Africa and the Phillipines with groups of 20-25 people all under the age of 35. We've repaired churches, schools and built homes and libaries. We've built ramps for disabled people and fed hundreds. As a group of 'born again' Christians, we also took part in church services, had youth meetings and praise nights. At one of the church services near the end, we requested for anyone with any health issues to come to the front and we would pray for them. One Flipino lady came up for prayer for her hand which didn't work properly and my friend prayed for her. She didn't speak english but and after the prayer she started crying and the translator said her hand was healed! It was amazing.

Also, I hurt my back as a 17 year old. I visited many chiropractor's and physio's who provided about 2 days of pain relief. After 7/8 years, I was booked in for an MRI scan to have it looked at as the pain was increasingly becoming unbareable. I received prayer from a visiting Pastor who strongly believed in healing and then also from my own Pastor. After a week or so, the pain subsided and I haven't had to see a chiro or physio in 3/4 years. I also cancelled the MRI!

A man in my church (pentecostal) also has Parkinson's. He started to go blind and couldn't drive. My Pastor called to him and prayed with him and he stood up the front of the church the following weekend to tell everyone that his sight had returned thanks to God! And he's driving again.

God's great!

katydid

antiskeptic wrote: »

Mocking has to involve a degree of rigor of thought. It has to identify a weak point in the opponents position and niggle at it.

Something some1whothinks hasn't thought of.

I agree. I just find that on the mods in this forum are too fast to jump in if there's a hint of "mocking" or whatever; in an adult debate, people should be allowed to police themselves and take the rough with the smooth, unless really objectionable stuff occurs.

Thisname

I've experienced so many answers to prayer since I became a christian. Unbelievers might put ordinary things down to coincidence (like say when Jesus finds me a great parking space in town!)

But there have been times when it can be nothing else but a Godincidence..for example I was a christian about a year when I started going to an alternative therapy (I won't say what one!) to treat a muscle injury. I had heard it said that such therapys which are rooted in eastern religion/spirituality can be dangerous spiritually and something christians should steer clear of. Anyway I put those thoughts to one side and went ahead with the therapy telling myself that view was probly a lot of nonsense and sur what harm could it do if it was making me feel better.

However as time went on I couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was against God's will. I felt like there was a wedge between me and God and when I was reading the bible I would feel the Spirits conviction. So I just prayed a simple prayer asking God if this feeling I was having was indeed Him telling me I was going down the wrong path (or just my own paranoia!) I told Him that if this therapy is wrong to let me know clearly in a way that I would know for sure was from Him and I would stop straight away.

That was on a Saturday. The next morning I went to church and a woman came up to me after the service and asked if she could talk to me. I knew her from bible study/prayer meetings but she had no clue what was going on with me, I hadn't told anyone! She said she had a dream about me and that the Holy Spirit was telling her to share it with me. In the dream I was involved in some kind of spirituality/yoga type thing she wasn't sure exactly what it was but felt she needed to warn me. When I went home I immediately repented and gave thanks to God. That experience really strengthened my faith and taught me to recognise and trust the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

mikom

I once dropped a slice of toast and it landed butter side up....