God’s Hand

Hello, Fellow Travelers!

How’s everyone doing today? I know the East Coast, especially Florida, has been going through some rough times lately. Nature seems to have its own way of resetting things. My dad used to say, “Nature always does its own house cleaning.” I’ve heard people call it global warming, while others see it as the hand of God. Since God is all-knowing—He sees the past, present, and future—I believe He understands everything happening now. But here’s the thing: He gave us free will, and with that comes the responsibility of how we treat this beautiful world He gifted us. So maybe it’s not just one thing. Perhaps it’s a mix of human choices, environmental shifts, and divine design. It’s hard not to worry about the destruction already taking place and how it might impact our economy, especially here in the South.

Whew! That’s a bit heavy, huh? But fear not! Let me shift gears and share a story of hope—a reminder that God’s hand is always guiding, even when we can’t see it immediately.

When the pandemic started, my family and I had just returned from Texas and moved into our camper for what turned into a few years of makeshift living. It was an adjustment, but we had bigger dreams on the horizon. I’d always felt drawn to the Western mountains of North Carolina—the fresh mountain air made me feel like I could finally breathe again, and the community there was so warm and welcoming. So, we made the decision to plant roots there and began hunting for our new home.

Let me tell you, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. It was almost like we had stepped into a storm that wouldn’t let up. First, we found a house we loved, but the deal fell through. The realtor—who also owned the house—got greedy and tried to pit us against another buyer. I remember looking at my husband and saying, “Enough. We don’t play those games.” So, we withdrew our offer.

Then, while house-hunting, we almost went over the edge of a mountain. I stood at the corner of that house, my heart pounding, and prayed, “God, please, we need Your help.” Moments later, as if out of nowhere, an old truck appeared, chains in hand. It was a neighbor from down the hill, a Christian man who just happened to be driving by when we needed help. It was nothing short of divine intervention. I know God sent him to us.

But the hits kept coming. Our car began having random issues, refusing to start without any clear explanation. After countless trips to the mechanic, they couldn’t figure out the cause. And then, the final straw—I had a heart attack. That’s when we knew it was time to head home. Looking back now, I genuinely believe I wouldn’t be here today if we hadn’t returned when we did. The blockage in my heart was 80% in the widowmaker artery. I needed immediate, specialized care, and being back home gave me access to that.

We had faced many challenges in the mountains, but in hindsight, I don’t think we would have survived the brutal storm, Hurricane Helene, if we had stayed. It wasn’t where we were meant to be, not then.

I’ve always believed that God has a purpose for each of us, and when the time is right, He will show us the path. Maybe now, after everything we’ve been through, it’s our time. Perhaps this is what He has been preparing us for all along.

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