…and I’m Always Happy to Listen

These are other people’s stories. I’m telling them anyway.

Because I’m a storyteller.

And, my first book included ghosts. People assume I’m fascinated with the topic.

The owners of each of these stories swear they are true.

First Up:

Illinois. A back road (that’s where all the interesting things happen). About an hour’s drive outside Chicago. Fifteen-ish years ago. November.

It’s twilight as Evaline, mother of twin boys sleeping in the backseat, coasts her sputtering, failing Toyota Camry to a stop.

Nothing ahead for miles but darkness. The ‘service station’ she passed ten minutes back looked like it had been abandoned for years. No lights. Crooked sign. Broken windows.

Exasperated and anxious, she climbs from the car and pops the hood. But, she has no clue what to do anyway.

Her options: wait or walk. Neither seem feasible, as the temperature keeps dropping.

“May I help you?” a male voice cuts through the stark silence.

She jerks, heart hammering. A man stands right beside her.

Right. Beside. Her!

The sun is below the horizon now, so wanning light prevents clear vision. Yet, she sees enough to be scared: Tall. Broad-shouldered. Late-thirties. Shadowed face. Dirty boots, and clothes that haven’t graced a washing machine in years.

Her mind races. Before exiting the car, she should have grabbed a weapon—a tire iron, a heavy flashlight. Anything!

As she dithers silently about what she failed to do, and what she could do now, he goes to work, hands in the engine

In a moment, he says to start the engine.

She hurries to the car, trying not to look as relieved as she feels.

The car turns on. The engine revs to life.

He gives her a thumbs-up, then steps back in front of the car to close the lid.

When the lid closes, there’s no one there.

Perplexed, she continues down the road, never seeing any sign of him.

And Here’s Another:

Gettysburg, PA. Sunset. Two couples in a car.

Jim crests a small rise in the road (yes, a back road again). His friend, in the front passenger seat, draws Jim’s attention to six rag-tag soldiers marching in formation to their left.

Jim—a sensible man, father of eight, successful realtor, National Guard colonel—knows re-enactments in this Civil War town generally don’t occur at that time of day. And, usually are surrounded by other re-enactors and visitors.

Still, he calls for their wives in the back seat to look.

They do. They see nothing.

Unsettled, Jim turns the car around and circles back, his friend urging him to hurry.

Then, nothing but an empty field.

Three days later, the local paper prints a series of letters from people talking about six ghostly soldiers they saw on the battlefield that same night.

“I have never believed in ghosts in my life,” Jim says later. “Always thought it was nonsense. But now I do. I know what I saw.”

There Are Many Other Stories:

• “Something lives on the second floor of my mother-in-law’s house,” Jonathon says. “We hear footsteps. There’s only two bedrooms up there, no bathroom. Why would empty bedrooms make a noise like that?”
• “I caught my three-year-old talking to the air,” Tiliah says, nervously wringing her hands. “When I ask her who she’s taking to, she points and says, ‘that lady with the shawl around her shoulder.’ I look, but there’s no one there.”
• “I worked at a restaurant in an old building. Built before the Revolutionary War. We could hear things moving around in the kitchen even when no one was back there. A couple of us saw a shape, like a woman in a long dress,” Tyson declares. “I quit that night.”

That Brings Me to the Moment.

A writing conference. Coastal Georgia.

I’m there to teach, not learn. Which, ironically, is the best way to learn. Ask any teacher.

At break, a man approaches. Tall. Dignified. Mid-life. Tailored trousers, starched Ralph Lauren shirt.

“I’m a Christian, but…” He looks around anxiously, like he expects the FBI to burst in and arrest him for what he’s about to reveal.

I’ve seen the look before. I knew what was coming. I had just shared an example of dialogue from my first novel, Crossing into the Mystic, in which a modern young woman encounters a paranormal spirit from the Civil War era. The “ghost” ends up being part of a lover’s triangle as the young woman begins to care enough about him that she attempts to solve his 150-year-old murder.

The man continues, “…despite what I’ve been taught in church, I’ve seen…,” he pauses, “…something.” He proceeds to share his story, like he’s expecting me to validate or refute his claim.

He ends with, “I know it was real. I know what I saw. What I heard.”

You and so many others, friend.

Like those mentioned above.

And, like me: Two days after my mother’s death, I heard her call to me. Her voice was as clear as it always was. No one will ever convince me it wasn’t her.

Even Science is Climbing on Board

Recently, Fox News Channel’s chief religion correspondent, Lauren Green, wrote an article about angels in our midst. She says, “…according to one scientist, the Bible gives clear evidence that they (angels) have been operating in our world since time began.”

Astronomer and physicist, Dr. Hugh Ross, says angels have existed throughout eternity as God’s messengers.

Sure, we didn’t need him to tell us that; the Bible already told us as much. Hagar, Lot, Hezekiah, Gideon, Elijah, Daniel, Zacharias, Joseph, Mary, Phillip, Peter, and many more were visited by angels.

But what’s fascinating is that Dr. Ross goes on to say, “They exist in a realm distinct from the universe,” and that scientists know there are more dimensions in our world than humans can access.

In Salvo magazine, he elaborates that angels “…have been granted power to enter the human realm for brief episodes—either in physical or nonphysical form.”

Between comments like these, and the stories people tell me, I’m always left wondering how anyone who believes in God could not believe in a supernatural world around us. In spiritual warfare. Angels and demons. Presences. Unexplained events. Miracles.

It’s said that God works in mysterious ways.

Believe it.

What about you? Have you or yours ever experienced a presence that just can’t be explained?

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