GOD STORIES
Every journey of faith is unique, and every experience has the power to inspire others. We invite participants to share their "God Stories"—moments when they felt God's presence, received guidance, experienced healing, or witnessed an unexpected blessing. Together, these stories encourage, strengthen, and remind us that God is always at work in our lives.
Kali Mosque, Taj Mahl Complex, Agra, India
My memory of my first spiritual encounter
I was 2 1/2 years old, in the company of my mother and several women, playing with a colorful ball on the floor in the living room, where I first lived. Two men announced their arrival at the front door and my mother greeted them. She was upset with that encounter and ran back to her bedroom. When I understood her upset, I followed her. One of the ladies tried to hold me back to no avail. I saw my mother fling herself on her bed and breakdown, crying. The same woman who tried to hold me back told me that my father was in heaven, that I was a big girl and needed to take care of my mother and baby sister. My father, in spirit, then explained to me that he was fine, in heaven, but couldn’t come to where I was. He showed me a vision of my front yard that depicted different areas delineated with little white picket fences. These areas included the front porch, lawn, walkway, sidewalk, grass median and street with that pattern repeating into infinity. This visual helped clarify the distance between us. I understood and felt assured that my father was fine, but also realized that my mother wasn’t. I remember feeling a strong sense of empathy and concern for my mother. My father was a naval pilot. They planned for another pregnancy and my mother had labor induced so that my father could meet my sister as he left for his deployment. He was ultimately classified as lost at sea. He has been present in spirit and engaged throughout my life.
— Submitted by C. N.
Grief Counseling
I decided to change my ways and make myself fit by walking and doing yoga.
As I was walking down the street, I saw a sign that said grief counseling through meditation at the yoga studio. Note: I have been trying to get grief counseling since November of 2025. I walked into the studio and asked, "When does this class start?" I was told, "Now."
I signed up immediately and joined the class. The class began in 5 minutes. I had no idea what was going to happen. There were 7 women present and each of us had a different story in our life that we shared about our grief. We went into deep meditation. I became lost where I was, I was in space somewhere.
I started coughing out phlegm profusely and couldn't stop. This lasted through the night. The teacher of our class told me that each person carries grief in a different part of our body and that my grief was carried in the chest. I have had this congestion since my friend's memorial on January 24th, 2026. As the cough persisted, I felt as if my body was ridding itself of poison. The next morning when I woke up, the cough was gone, the congestion was gone and I felt 100 pounds lighter. This was a gift from God and the angels.
Thank you, God. Thank you, angels, for guiding me to the right place for healing. I have been at this yoga studio every day since that night.
This was a miracle!
— Submitted by S. G.
Spirit Story #1
One morning I was getting ready to go to work, going through my usual morning routine. When you’ve worked for a number of years, your morning routine is pretty automatic. As I was just about to pull out of the driveway, I had the thought that I was forgetting something. I went back into the house, looked around the kitchen and dining table, then went upstairs looking though my bedroom and bathroom. I even rechecked my backpack. I could find nothing that I was missing. It was only about five to ten minutes to do all of the above. I finally got back in my car and left. When I got onto the highway just a short way from my entrance there was a multi car accident that looked like it had occurred minutes before my being in that location. There weren’t any police cars at the scene yet. I believe spirit delayed my departure so that I would not be involved in the accident. I felt very thankful. It makes me wonder how many times we are saved from trouble by guides and loved ones in spirit. Unlike this time, in many of these we are unaware that they have assisted us or protected us from trouble.
— Submitted by T. V.
God Story
I have always noticed the amazing way God Stories come into our lives before I was introduced to the term in class years ago. Some are tiny, but reassuring, others are POW what was that!!! I kept a journal of God Stories, but it was misplaced somehow in a move or two. When you start to record and/or take note of happenings in your life, you are introduced to a stream of events that solidifies the idea that you are definitely not alone in this world.
The year 1983 brought me to Houston, Texas for a relaxing summer with my favorite cousins. I had graduated from college and completed student teacher training. The outlook in San Diego for teaching positions was looking bleak that year, so I decided to take a little time and interview for positions in Houston. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to practice my interview skills. I was very surprised to find myself hired with the first interview. I found an apartment and began what I fondly refer to as “My Peace Corps Years.”
The elementary school was located about 20 freeway minutes from my new home in Kingwood, Tx. I loved my job and seemed to feel at home very quickly. I had to get used to a few “Yes Mam and No Mams” and came to get a kick out of being referred to as Mam wherever I went.
School in Texas was different in many ways, but the best part was the group of Lunch Ladies who came in early each morning to cook breakfast and lunch for the children. Their early presence allowed me an opportunity to get to school about 6:30 AM and get ahead of my paperwork.
I am a creature of habit and leave my home early each day by 6:10. One particular school day I awoke, did some meditational study and prayer and sat down with my coffee. I found myself craving a second cup of coffee which was unheard of for me at the time. I wondered about it and proceeded to get dressed for the day. I left my apartment and was about a few miles down the road and decided to pull over and purchase gas. My tank was half full and I thought what I was doing was strange at the time, but refill, I must. I made it to the freeway and was off to work.
Pulling into the school parking lot was a shocking experience for me. Where usually the custodian's car and the lunch ladies would park was a row of Houston PD cars. I walked in the backdoor and came into a scene of crying women with facial injuries and a shaking custodian mumbling to himself. Some thieves slipped into the school right behind the staff and had robbed and beaten them. The officers questioned me a bit, but the ladies just hugged me and said it was fortunate I wasn’t there early. At that moment, I knew it was not an accident and thanked my angels.
— Submitted by L. S. B.
— Submitted by J. M.
MY EXPERIENCE: MOM
My late mother, Judy, was a wonderful Mom and lady. Within our family, she was the loving, patient glue that stuck our family together. Growing up, Mom and I were close, and we continued to be into adulthood. When she was showing symptoms of Dementia-Alzheimer’s disease in her early seventies, I lived in denial about it for quite some time. She had become extremely quiet and emotionally detached, and she could not carry on a conversation. He vocalizations became easy one-word answers or no response at all. My father, Don, became her talking piece. He would answer any questions directed at Judy for her.
As time went on, my father asked me to move in with Mom and take care of her if he passed away. I agreed, thinking that it would be a long time off. It was not. Two months later, Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. Another two months later, he passed away. Soon, I moved in with Mom, into the beautiful home they had happily lived in for many years. In the years following, I did my best to take Mom out for lunch, to the beach or other fun places, and to visit friends and family.
Three years later, Mom became so severe with her disease, my brother and I placed her in a memory care facility. This decision did not come easily, and I felt guilty because Mom had never wanted to go into a facility. She had told me many times not to put her into one. After only two years, Mom passed away. I knew she had been unhappy living there, and the facilities’ neglect had led to her early death. At the time, I felt as though it was my fault. I had put her in there; I was responsible for her wellbeing.
A few days later, as I hiked the small mountain behind the house, I wept while I talked to Mom aloud. I told her how sorry I was that her last six months of life were so bad, and sorry that I had put her in the facility. About how I had tried to do my best for her, though it was not good enough. I’m so sorry, Mom. At that moment, I came to a stream surrounded by rocks.
A voice in my left ear said, “It’s okay.” Then a vision filled my sight. It was Mom—her face, staring back at me with a serious, sad expression. It was Mom, looking different; her skin was pale and white, with no wrinkles, looking closer to 20-25-years-old. But it really was Mom, I’m sure of it. Her spirit had reached out, relieving me of my guilt. “It’s okay,” I said, and repeated it several times. Mom forgave me. Now I needed to forgive myself.
As of today, it has been three years since I saw Mom in a vision. I haven’t seen her since, but I know she visits and checks in, watching over me. I feel her calming presence that seems to say, Everything is going to be okay.
— Submitted by S. S.
My Grandpa
My Grandpa was a wonderful man and when it came time for him to leave his body, I was honored with the amazing opportunity to care for him and be by his side until his final breath. My Mom had been his primary caregiver for over 6 years. There were so many administrative end of life communications she had to take care of during his transition time, and I was more than happy to help out however I could. His 7-day transition to Heaven was filled with love, gratitude and appreciation, surrounded by family coming to give him love and a final farewell.
On the evening of the 3rd day the lights were dim, and I was sitting by his side, holding his hand praying, humming and rocking gently back and forth like you would to comfort a baby, when a Matriarchal procession of beautiful Spirit’s glided into the room from the hallway. My Great-Grandmother, his mother, was heading the procession. Next was my other Great-Grandmother, my grandmother’s mom. 3rd in line was my grandmother, his wife who had passed on a few years prior. Followed by my Great Aunt and her daughter, my dear cousin. They didn’t say or do anything. They just glided in, one after another into the family room with a sense of peace, honor and tradition. As if to tell me intuitively this is how it is. This is what we do and how we show up. I was surprised to see that my grandma was 3rd in line because of the love they shared for one another, I thought she would be first. Even her own mother came in before her. When my grandma came in, I of course recognized her right away, but it was a very young version of her that I only remember from pictures and early childhood memories.
As they entered the room they brought with them an overwhelming sense of peace. A healing peace. I felt like they were there to help relieve any pain or discomfort my grandpa may have been feeling on a level he could not communicate. I thought for sure they were coming to guide him home. They entered the room, they circled around and then I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were still there from the immense peace that abided.
During his days of transition, I spent hours at his bedside talking to him in my mind. Every Wednesday for the past 6 years I have had the pleasure of taking care of him and spending the day together. We talked and laughed all day as he’d tell stories. During his days of transition, he stopped communicating verbally but I felt many times that we were conversing with our minds. I told him that I hoped I hadn’t gone crazy because it felt like he could hear me and I could hear him. I asked him to give me a sign when he got to heaven.
He passed on a full moon, lunar eclipse on Cinco de Mayo! While he was passing my grandmother in Spirit, his wife came into the room and sat in the empty chair across from me on the opposite side of his bed. I couldn’t see her clearly as before when she had come with the matriarchal procession. This time I just felt her energy. She was my loving Grandmother, and this was her house. That energy was unmistakable. I know she was sitting in the chair because my eyes couldn't move past the chair into the kitchen as if there was someone sitting in front of me. She sat with us during his final slow intermittent breaths. Which took about an hour. His final transition. When I finally got some sleep, I had only been asleep for about an hour and a half when in some kind of dream state I felt someone trying to lift back my eye lids to open my eyes. I tried fighting it of course, I was exhausted. They were determined and kept trying until they succeeded. When my eyes opened it was just the most brilliant white EVERYWHERE. SO, BRIGHT and my grandfather peered over my eyes from behind my head in a playful manner letting me know he had made it.
— Submitted by A. D.
Close Call
One Saturday night I had worked the night shift at the hospital and got off at 7:30 am on Sunday morning. As I was driving home it was very quiet and there were hardly any cars out on the freeway. As I was coming down the 163 South freeway through Mission Valley, I passed a car that had a Baja California license plate. There were two young Hispanic men in the car. I thought to myself, “what are they doing on this freeway at 7:45 am on a Sunday morning?” I passed them and got into the lane to exit off on to University Avenue at 6th Avenue because I needed to go to the bank ATM to deposit my work check. As I moved to that lane to exit, I noticed that they also did the same thing. I thought to myself, “how odd was that.” I came up the hill and turned left at the stop light on to University Avenue and proceeded to go two blocks further towards the ATM. I looked in the rear-view mirror and this car also turned left on to University Avenue. Again, I thought, “How odd, what are the chances.” I go the two blocks and turn right into the bank parking lot. I thought to myself, if they also turn right into the lot then this is not a coincidence. As I pulled into the lot I immediately parked in a spot which was next to another car. A woman had just returned to her car after using the ATM.
I looked up and sure enough, the car with the two Hispanic men pulled into the bank parking lot and drove past me and into the back lot where I could not see where they had parked. I had kept the car motor running because something did not feel right. The woman was still in her car fumbling around in her purse. She never looked over at me, but I thought she is going to wonder why I was still sitting in the car with the motor still on. A voice said to me, “Get out of here.” I said, “No it will be alright, what will that woman think if I just pulled up and then leave abruptly.” The voice in my head was stronger, “Get out of here.” This time I did not resist. I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking place and headed towards the back of the parking lot where I assumed those two men had parked. Sure enough, as I drove to the edge of the building, the two of them were coming around the corner on foot carrying a newspaper. It appeared that the newspaper was concealing something that they were carrying.
As I drove past them and looked them directly in the eyes and pointed my finger at them to let them know that I knew what they were up too. They gave me the finger, and I hit the gas and got out of there. I know without a doubt that they had a weapon concealed within that newspaper and they were intending to rob me. I am so glad that I listened to Spirit and got out of there.
Wait until the light comes on
One evening I was wondering where my outdoor cat was since she had not come home for dinner. I went to the back door because I thought I heard her outside. It was dark outside and I looked over at the patio area and saw something black sitting there. I thought it was my cat because she was solid black and I called for her to come inside. The animal just sat there and did not respond to me. I thought that was odd and waved my arm above me to activate the motion detector light. It did not come on after I had done that. I called for the cat again as I continued to wave my arm at the light. I thought that I should just walk over there and pick up that cat and bring her into the house. A voice in my head said to me, “Wait until the light comes on.” I thought Ok and waved my arm again at the motion detector light. The light still did not come on for me. I thought, heck with this light, just go and get the cat since the light was not coming on. Again, the voice said, “Wait until the light comes on.” So, I waved my arm again at the light and this time it came on. Once it was on, I looked over to the patio where the “cat” was located. There sitting on my patio was a very big racoon and it stood up on its hind legs. It looked at me and I looked at it. Then it just turned and left. I thought, oh my God, I am so glad I did not go over and try to pick it up. They are known to be vicious and attack someone when they feel threatened so I could have been injured when trying to pick up my “cat.”
I am very thankful that I listened to my inner voice.
— Submitted by J. M.