How angels can intervene

Wings on the water

The last day I spent with my cousin Mark was during the summer of 1992. We were on his boat, sturgeon fishing on the Columbia River in Washington state. It was one of the few times in our adult lives that we were alone together. We had a blast!

Mark loved his boat and his wife, Lisa, was more than happy to have me accompany him so she didn’t have to. I’m not a big fan of fishing, but I had more fun during that little trip than in a long time. We caught a few fish, but none big enough to keep. We talked and kicked back, laughed and joked. I brought my video camera along since Mark had promised to show me waterfalls and teach me how to pronounce "Oregon" correctly. I'm so glad that I had the camera, but even without it I could never forget that marvelous day.

Mark was born in February of 1958 and I came along seven months later. Growing up, he never let me forget who was older. After his 30th birthday, I never let him forget who was younger!

Every summer, during our teenage years, I was allowed to spend a month at his family's house up in Camas, Washington, overlooking the Columbia River with a beautiful city-light view of Portland, Oregon at night.

Mark was the third child of nine, seven boys and two girls. That house was always full of life, total chaos! My family was big, too. I was the oldest, the only girl with four younger brothers. We had other cousins as well, but like Mark’s family, they all lived in Washington. As my family lived in California, going up to Washington was a dream that I lived for all year.

Mark was the perfect cousin, handsome with light, bright blue eyes and hysterically funny, with lots of friends to hang out with. I was in heaven when we spent time together. As we grew into our twenties, got jobs and apartments, my trips to Washington were a frequent, inexpensive getaway and guaranteed good time with lots of laughs. Mark was going to school, and working hard setting up his own computer consulting business. Yet he still always made time to hang out with me -- even if it was just to yuck it up.

But, as happens in life, we both grew into our thirties with more responsibilities and less time to have the fun we used to. I was transferred to Phoenix and only managed to get up to Washington about once a year.

Mark had a daughter, Megan, with a girlfriend (whom he never married) and started to settle down. Megan’s mother had other children by other men and moved on with her life, but Mark was a good Dad to Megan, had joint custody of her and loved her with all of his heart. Eventually, Mark met and married Lisa and together they had a little girl, named Angela, who was their little Angel from heaven.

In February of 1993, I found out that my husband and I were going to be parents ourselves and I called Mark and Lisa to tell them the good news. They were very happy for me and Mark told me to have a girl. "Girls," he said, "are better kids than boys. I should know, eh?”

"Hey," I laughed back at him. "You don’t have the market on brothers, ya know, you only have three more than I do."

"Yeah, but I was a boy, Joanie. Trust me, you want girls."

That was the last time I talked to him.

On April 15th, 1993, Mark took the day off from his business. He had promised to take six-year-old Megan fishing and figured tax day was as good as any to take a break from his daily grind.

The day started out fine. Mark put Megan's life jacket on, but as usual, disregarded his.

Not long after launching, Mark used the "catwalk" to go from one end of the cabin cruiser to the other. Somehow, he slipped and fell into the Columbia River. The water in April is extremely cold and there are huge logs floating just underneath the surface.

He surfaced for a moment and yelled to Megan to stay where she was. She didn't. She jumped in after him. The boat, motor running, proceeded to go down the river unmanned.

Megan could not see her Daddy. She was crying and cold and floundering. She thought she saw her Daddy's head bobbing on the river, far away. It went under the water.

"Don't worry," she heard a voice say. The voice was not her Daddy's. "You'll be okay; don't cry!"

Megan felt arms lift her up and carry her across the water to a buoy quite a distance away. "Hold on to the buoy," the voice told her. "Don't let go. Someone will come and get you." Megan held on as tight as she could.

Some time later, two fishermen spotted Megan. They had passed an unmanned boat going in circles down the river and had phoned the authorities. Suspicious, they continued up the river and were amazed to find a small child clinging for life to the big red buoy.

"How did you get here?" they asked, as they gently pulled Megan off the buoy and wrapped her in blankets.

"The angels," she said, simply. "The angels told me to hold on and someone would come and get me."

Megan was brought to the hospital and found to be suffering from slight hypothermia. Besides being obviously traumatized, she was otherwise okay.

They said her survival was a miracle.

Despite a huge search effort by Search and Rescue, Mark's body was not located until May 9, 1993 -- three weeks after he had fallen off the boat.

Megan's tale was marveled over by the family, although some felt that Mark himself must have pushed her to that buoy. But Megan kept insisting that her Daddy was too far away from her, so the angels had taken care of her.

I don't doubt it for a minute.

The police investigation determined the approximate location that Mark fell off the boat and the length of time between the accident and Megan's rescue. They told the family that there was no way that Megan could have had the physical strength to swim to that buoy based on her size, the water currents, temperature and floating debris. Additionally, it would have been extremely difficult for a little girl to drag her wet body, with life preserver, up onto the part of the buoy she was holding tightly.

Mark was an excellent swimmer, but the theory is that a log may have drug him under the surface and he was unable to extract himself from it. No one will ever really know for sure. He was 35 years old.

My daughter, Skye, was born on October 10, 1993. She has light, bright blue eyes. I like to think that they look rather like her guardian angel’s.

Joanie K.-B.
Mesa, AZ

That is a lovely story, is'nt it wonderful God can do any thing he pleases for us to Bless us or keep us safe.

Thank you for sharing my sis,
Nobella,

I've had a few times of actual intervention of angels -- once
as a five year old boy in the 1950's, when an angel rescued me
on a "tube" train (yes, the same as was bombed in London
7/7/05). Some of those deep level underground train stations were
built on a curve, which means that at some places, there is a gap
of around 18 inches between the train and the platform. Underneath,
there is drop of a couple of feet, and four rails - two of which
are electrified. At those stations, an announcer will intone, "Mind
the gap!" As my mother and I exited the train at one such
station during an evening rush hour, the crowds of city workers
separated me form my mum, as I was swept forward helplessly towards
the sliding doors -and the dreaded gap. Just as my mother thought
that I'd fall to the rails beneath, I was gently lifted across
the gap, and deposited safely on the platform edge. My mother turned
around to thank the man who had carried me - only to find that
he had disappeared! My mother always firmly believed that it was
an angel that saved me that day, and I agree. Strangely enough,
I didn't feel afraid; I was totally at peace and could not think
why my mother was so relieved.

Around 1975, although I'm a Londoner, I was living in a Christian
community house in Eureka, California. One Saturday afternoon,
we took in two hitchhikers and tried to get them to accept Christ.
We picked up hitchhikers as a matter of routine, so that in itself
was not unusual. They smiled at us as we preached to them in our
dining area, and although they refused to say the sinner's prayer,
looking back on the incident the next day, I realized that they
had never denied Christ, as they stood there patiently listening
for an hour or two, with a gentle smile on their faces. They were
not hungry, as I recall, and refused to eat. They were also very
evasive: they would not tell us where they had traveled from, or
where they were going. We put them up in our lounge area, next
to the single brothers' dormitory.

That night, somewhere around two in the morning, I fond myself
suddenly awake and the Lord spoke to my heart, "The hitchhiker
on the couch has a message for you, ask him what it is."

As a young Christian, I'd been going though a confusing time,
and I'd been looking to different church leaders for scriptural
answers to my troubles. However, I argued with the Lord, as it
seemed foolish to ask an "unsaved" hitchhiker if he had
a word from God for me. Eventually, after walking around the block
in troubled thought, I made a "deal" with the Lord: I'd
go into the next room where he was sleeping, and if he was already
awake, I'd ask him. I crept to where the hitchhiker was fast asleep
on the couch, and as I approached, he did not move, but his eyes
popped open. I asked, "I'm sorry for disturbing you, but do
you have a message from God for me?" The amazing thing was
that he did not look surprised or irritated at all. He immediately,
replied, "No I don't, but I wished that I did." He immediately
closed his eyes, and appeared to be in a deep sleep once more.
I returned to bed to argue with the Lord, but the Holy Spirit began
instructing me very clearly. He told me that what the "man" had
said was indeed the message the Lord had wanted me to hear: that
I'd been seeking spiritual answers from men, whereas the Lord Himself
wanted to commune with me and lead me through the Word of God and
the troubles I was facing. I went to sleep satisfied. That night
turned out to be a defining moment in my young Christian life;
from that day on, I began seeking God for myself in quiet times,
scriptural meditation and prayer.

However, when I arose early the next morning around six o'clock,
there was no sign of either hitchhiker, nor any evidence that anyone
had spent the night. It was then that I recalled the "angelic" smiles
on both their faces, as half a dozen of us had literally had cornered
them the afternoon previously; doing everything we could to get
them to repent and believe the Gospel. Of course, angels already
know the Gospel, but as servants of God, are unable to "accept" Christ
as humans can, and the preaching is also up to us. I'd love to
hear their account.

I have to admit, that although everyone agreed that the two strangers
had never denied the Gospel, and no-one had seen them leave in
the morning, the other Christian residents of the "Tri-City
Apartments" in 5th Street, Eureka, California, thought I was
a bit crazy in my belief that they had, infact been angels disguised
as hitchhikers.

However, they had not had their lives radically touched the previous
night, nor had they been dramatically rescued as a five year old
boy on a London "tube" train.

This morning, I had other "important" things to do,
but I had it on my heart to write these two testimonies. I believe
it is because someone desperately needs to hear this. There are
many false doctrines around right now, and the enemy is a deceiver,
deceiving the every elect of God, if it were possible. But the
Lord has promised that you shall not be tempted beyond that which
you are able, and that with the temptation, He will provide a way
of escape. Our way of escape is the revelation of God's Word, the
Bible, through which the living presence of Jesus Christ is made
real in our hearts and lives. Books such as "The Da Vinci
Code" by Dan Brown are being reads by many Christians, and
upsetting the faith of some. Dan Brown elevates the works of the
artist, Leonardo Da Vinci to the level of Holy writ, and denigrates
the Word of God to mere superstitious tails from a bygone age.
It is deception, and a lie. If you have been affected by these
doctrines of demons that pass themselves off as popular fiction,
may I encourage you to go to the Angels on Assignment website today,
and read Pastor Buck's book. This is not fiction, but reality.
Everything is verified by a careful study of Scripture. You will
see your life transformed, and a new love for Jesus and His Word
birthed in your life as you take Pastor Buck's message to heart.
Why is this website offering this book free of charge? This is
not to make money, or to "hook" you to a mailing list.
This is simply because they love you with the passion that Pastor
Buck speaks of in his book, and their own desire is for you to
make in life.. both now and in eternity.

No one asked me to write this testimonial. I do not personally
know anyone from the church in Boise, Idaho, nor have I ever met
Charles and Francis Hunter - I do not even know if they are still
on this earth! I have written this because you, dear reader, whoever
you are, wherever you are, and whatever trial you are facing, NEED
the message of "Angels on Assignment". Bless you all
reading this!

Chaplain John wml("john.","ruffle","wlc.ac","uk");john.ruffle@wlc.ac.uk London (Aug 2005)



I have had contact with this author, and have been given permission to share this wonderful testimony! I did not choose to post this here in behalf of the Angels on Assignment, but rather to simply show how angels can intervene in someone's life and change it. God Bless~

If people would come out of the rain and read their bibles, all of those
questions would be satisfied. Including the verse that states, "we were created higher than the angels".

2 Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

I to have entertained an angel but thats another story for another time.
This story about Mark prevents me from doing so. Sympathy is the only emotion I'm feeling right now, that was a touching story. I live not more than a two hours drive to where you were.

Love in Christ,
Lee