Does God Care?

By Janet Bartholomew

Does God Care? is a collection of true stories from around the world dealing with personal experiences with God. Bartholomew begins the collection with her own story and then presents over 80 other accounts sent to her from people eager to share their experiences. The stories present many different ways in which God touched an individual's life and led them to Him. The stories submitted in the book deal with overcoming drug or alcohol addiction, being healed or experiencing a medical miracle. Others who wrote to Bartholomew tell of religious conversions or simple expressions of their deep love for God and how grateful they are to have experienced His love toward them and for the blessings they received.

Bartholomews own experiences are related first. One story she relates how God provided for her and her daughter when they experienced car trouble in the middle of nowhere in during the night. Bartholomew also writes of her near death experience as she went into the hospital for what was supposed to be routine outpatient surgery. As a result of the problematic surgery she experienced physical, emotional and financial hardships. She explains that her faith, as well as her church and family supplied her with strength she needed throughout her struggles.

Perhaps some of the most dramatic stories included in this collection deal with an individuals ability to overcome problems with substance abuse. In "Spiritual Advisor" the reader is introduced to a young lady who found herself addicted to both drugs and alcohol. With God's help, as well as instruction from her spiritual advisor and support from friends, she has been able to achieve a year of sobriety. She has also decided to fully dedicate he life to Christ. Another writer from New York relates her experiences with the Bowery Mission Women's Center. The Center helped her to overcome a lifelong addiction to drugs and showed her that God was the solution to her problems. Dan Cross presents a life story of how he overcame alcoholism and suicide attempts, but is now a Minister and assists others who face the same battles he fought.

Also included are stories describing miraculous occurrences. Jim Wilds of Alaska, tells how he was able, with Gods help, to survive falling into an icy river and fighting -60 degree wind chills.

James Hewitt tells of his encounter with God in a train yard. His car, though the gearshift was in drive, moved in reverse out of the way of two oncoming train cars. As a result of this incident and the audible conversation he says he had with God, Hewitt immediately stopped drinking and smoking pot. He is how a pastor and considers starting his own church.

More ordinary encounters with God are also included among the stories. One story relates how God used a simple sunset to capture one persons attention and helped refocus his mind to what was important in life. One man relates how he was not able to find true contentment until he turned his life and his talents over to God, even though he was financially successful and had archived what he thought he wanted from life.

Many stories of healing are included throughout this collection. In this category are accounts of overcoming medical conditions such as anorexia, hearing loss, diabetes and cancer. In each case the healed person expresses their deep love and appreciation for God and His presence in their adversity...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 9, 2001
• ISBN: 9781465317858

Janet Bartholomew

Janet Bartholomew was born on September 1st, 1950 in Alhambra, California. She knew at an early age that Show Business would be her life. She demonstrated her talents for dancing at age three and began professional modeling at seven. Her spiritual life began while visiting a church with her grandmother as a child. As a young girl Janet lived with a serious Asthmatic condition, but she would not be deterred from her ambitions. Later, as a teen, Janet was deeply involved in drama and earned multiple related academic awards. In 1969, she got her first big “break” when she was selected as one of the original “Gold Diggers” on the Dean Martin show. Thereafter, she appeared in major films, television shows and stage productions for several years. However, being part of this lifestyle Janet felt vaguely empty. She attributes her salvation during this period to her experiences at church with her grandmother. Janet was married in 1977 and became a mother in 1981. After the birth of her daughter she abandoned her acting career. However, Janet separated from her husband in 1990. Shortly thereafter, Janet began having serious back pains. She discovered she had gallstones. What should have been a simple procedure, turned into a nightmare? Janet died on the operating table, but was revived. It took nearly six months to recuperate. However, she was overwhelmed with a sense of fear and vulnerability, for which she eventually sought professional help. During this time Janet reached to God. She visited a local church and discovered ways to turn her personal tragedy into triumph. She began writing her own story and searched for testimonials of others whose lives had been touched by God. Today, Janet sings with a gospel group and devotes her life to the discovery of the miracles brought to the lives of others, and the telling of those stories.

Book preview

He Stiff Does Miracles

FRED ULMER

I used to walk down a path of uncertainty

With no direction or purpose in life …

I knew what it was to be lost and lonely,

Even with a caring wife.

Looking for that magic answer,

In all the darkest places …

On a bus ride without a transfer,

Full of sinners with frozen faces.

I felt as though I was so far down

And lost within my sins

That one like me could never be found,

And a sinner never wins.

Yet, a year ago a hand reached in,

To the bottom of this pit …

To far down to be reached by man,

But God’s hand reached it.

And as I remember how life was in the past,

I never thought that I could change, you see.

Yet I had found salvation at last,

And I know now the miracle was me!

My Encounter with Mother Teresa

RITA KOLYCIUS RALEY

I was born in 1952, so I was a teenager during the late sixties and early seventies (the whole hippie era) and was filled with idealism. My parents came to Canada from Lithuania with nothing, and so it was their goal to make the most of their lives and for their children to do the same. Consequently, I was raised to understand that it was important to have something to strive for, some ideal. One of the more positive outgrowths of this idealism was that in high school I decided that I wanted to be a true Christian, a follower of Jesus, and notjust live for myself

It was around this time that I read a book about Mother Teresa. I thought, Wow, this woman sounds fantastic! I loved her philosophy of doing something beautiful for God by giving up everything to care for the poorest of the poor. I had a pretty comfortable life and I was a relatively happy person; but I wanted something more, something different. I felt that God had put in my heart a desire to work with the poor.

But I have to admit that part of it, too, wanted some more adventure in my life. So I wrote to Mother Teresa and asked if I could join her in Calcutta for a time. She wrote back and said that I had an open-ended invitation, that I was welcome anytime.

Thus, a girlfriend and I set out for India. Once I got to Europe, though, I got more interested in having a good time, seeing things and hitchhiking around. I spent a lot of time in Africa and the Middle East, and it took me a whole year to get to India! I met many different people, and, because my faith was immature, I wasn’t able to discern whether their beliefs were right or wrong. Many new philosophies were making their way into my head. Those moral issues I knew were wrong, I stayed away from, but I became fascinated with eastern spirituality.

When I finally reached India, I ended up spending three months in a Tibetan monastery, meditating twelve hours a day. I wanted to purify my mind by emptying it of all attachments to the material world. Instead of finding inner peace, however, I began to feel overwhelmed. I felt as though life was a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle and I had to figure out where each piece went. Where did Christianity fit in? Where did Jesus fit in? Was He really the only way to God?

Because I had been touched by the Lord and given him my heart when I was younger, I felt deep inside that there was something more to Jesus than Buddha. I started considering reincarnation; I took on a strict Buddhist lifestyle; I became a vegetarian; I didn’t wear any leather; I went all the way. But these concerns kept weighing on me, and I realized that I was confused and not as happy as I used to be. One night as I was meditating, I realized that my mind was in real danger. Something was horribly wrong; I got really scared. I felt that I simply had to get to Mother Teresa’s because she was the only person I knew who could help me. So, at 4:00 the next morning I began a 3,000-mile train trek across India to

Calcutta. When I found her place and knocked on the door, all I could do was sob. The sisters called Mother Teresa. She must have seen how needy I was. She arranged for me to stay with the sisters as a guest.

Every day that I was in her house, Mother Teresa came to talk to me. I was there for three months! She took such loving care of me. Every morning at 10:00, we had tea together. Even though I was a strict vegetarian, she would bring me a hard-boiled egg and insisted that I eat it. She took me to the doctor. She listened patiently to me. She was like a mother to me. For me, it was a sign of God’s love that she took such an interest in me. I felt I could truly trust her, and so I told her everything about my life, all my questions. I asked her about reincarnation and Buddhism, but all she could talk about was Jesus. I used to think, Maybe she isn’t all that intelligent. Why is she always talking about Jesus? When I asked her about meditation, for example, she said: God didn’t create us to be sitting in a corner mumbling for twelve hours a day. He created us to go out and love one another and be happy, and for that we need Jesus. That’s why he died on the cross. The constant message was Jesus.

During my time there, I began to grasp what Mother Teresa was doing. I thought to myself, This is what Jesus must be like—totally interested in my life. People often think that God is too busy to care about what we do everyday. He’s got better things to do, like dealing with wars and famines and earthquakes. But He cares about everything. I saw that He loved me so much that He brought me all the way to Calcutta. His love drew me there so that I could see His love for me through Mother Teresa.

Part of my burden was guilt for turning away from Jesus after I had experienced something of His love. How could He ever forgive me? I didn’t know God’s mercy, his absolute forgiveness for anyone who comes to Him no matter what they’ve done. It took me about a month to accept the fact that Jesus died to forgive me and to bring me back to His love.

The turning point came when Mother Teresa told me, ‘You ‘re going to go to Confession today." That is when my heart started changing. Through my Confession, God began healing a lot of guilt. I experienced Hs forgiveness. One result was that I didn’t cry as much as I used to. I knew Jesus was thirsting for my love and wanted me to accept everything about Him. I began to see that Christianity had everything; Jesus had everything I needed in order to follow His plan for my life.

During my first month in Calcutta, I worked in the orphanage where they brought abandoned infants. A lot of them died, and the experience of being surrounded by poverty confronted me. What are you doing with your life? I was healthy and fairly intelligent but was doing nothing with my life. I also worked in the home for the dying, my favorite place. I bathed and fed people, cut their fingernails and toenails. Many had lived like animals on the street and were nothing but skin and bones. Here I was a healthy, unimpaired North American! It was very humbling and it helped me to be less wrapped up in myself. Eventually, I realized that I enjoyed working with people and I started thinking about practicing medicine. After three months, Mother Teresa suggested that I go home and go to school. Later, I finished nursing school and went on to study medicine and pediatrics.

As I look back, I can see God’s faithfulness in drawing me to Him. Even though I turned away from the Lord, He forgave me. Despite my wanderings, He still had His hand on my life. Even in this past year I have come to know Jesus more and more intimately as I spend time with Him and read scripture. In my heart, I find myself telling the Lord that I want to know Him more. I have come to see how wonderful He is, and my love for Him has grown. As a child and as a young adult, I knew Him in an intellectual way, but there wasn’t love for Him in my heart. That’s what’s grown most of all.

I have always known that as a Christian I should evangelize, but I had the hardest time doing it. It always felt artificial. A time came, however, when I realized that I wanted to tell other people, especially my patients, about Jesus because I knew how much it would comfort them. I knew how much they needed God’s love. It became much more natural for me because my whole relationship with the Lord had changed. It was easy to ask them, Do you know how much Jesus loves you? Another revelation was that God wasn’t out to get me and rap me on the knuckles for doing wrong. Rather, He was a Father who wanted to love me. This created a great desire in my heart to pray. It wasn’t something I had to do every day; I wanted to pray.

We are God’s children and we need to receive His love just like a child needs to receive love from his parents. We thrive on love. When I think about these things, I long to receive more love from God, and it makes it easier for me to love other people. Many people have an inner emptiness that only Jesus can fill.

I feel that I am just starting to see how much more God wants to do. His plan includes more than just going to India or having a conversion or meeting Mother Teresa or finishing medical school. Those are just events, but Jesus is so big, and He wants to reveal Himself to us. His love is like a huge treasure chest—there is so much more that He wants to show us, so much about Him that I still don’t know, so much I have never experienced. There’s so much more I can know and see just by walking with Him and seeing Him work. Each day I should be able to say, Wow! Look at what God did for me today!

Gold Shoes

ORANGE HILLS ASSEMBLY OF GOD

It was only a few days before Christmas and here I was still shopping. The cars packed the parking lot of our local discount store. Inside the store, it was even worse. Shopping carts and last minute shoppers jammed the aisles.

Why did I come today? I wondered. My feet ached, my head was stuffy and I felt like going home. My Christmas list was down to those lasts few names. You know the ones. The people who claimed they didn’t want anything but whose feelings would be hurt if you didn’t get them a gift. It had to be the busiest day of the year. This was not a day for Christmas joy!

Hurriedly, I filled my shopping cart with last minute items and proceeded to the long checkout lines. I picked the shortest, but it looked like at least a 20-minute wait. In front of me were two small children. The boy was about eight and a younger girl. The boy wore a ragged coat that looked two sizes too small and a pair of soiled tennis shoes two sizes too big. His jeans came to the to the top of his socks. There in his hands were a few crumpled dollar bills.

The girl’s clothing wasn’t any better than her brother’s.

Her hair was a blonde mass of curls. On her red cheeks was a little scuff of dirt and her beautiful blue eyes were fixed on her older brother. She carried a beautiful pair of shiny, gold house slippers clutched to her chest. As the Christmas music played through the store the little girl swayed to the tune of Jingle Bells and half tried to sing along. Oh, the joy of youth.

When we finally reached the checkout register, the little girl raised up on her tiptoes and very carefully placed the shoes on the counter. You would have thought they were real gold and fragile enough to break at the slightest jar. Those shoes were her treasures.

The clerk rang up the bill. That will be $6.09, she said. The boy laid his crumpled dollars on the stand and began to search his pockets. He finally came up with $3.12. I guess we will have to put them back, he bravely said. We’ll come back some other time, maybe tomorrow. The little girl moved her head back and forth. I could see the tears filling her eyes. A soft sob broke from the little girl lips. But … but … Jesus would have loved these shoes, She cried. Well, we’ll go home and I’ll collect some more cans and we’ll get some more money. Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. We’ll come back tomorrow, he said.

My heart was touched. I handed some money to the cashier. These children had waited in line for a long time and, after all, it was Christmas. Suddenly a pair of arms came around my legs and the little girl said in a small voice, Thank you, lady. I had to know. I looked down into the little round face and I asked, What did you mean when you said Jesus would like the shoes? The boy answered, Our Mommy is real sick and she is going to heaven. Daddy said she might go before Christmas. She is going to be with Jesus. The girl spoke, My Sunday school teacher said the streets in Heaven are shiny gold, just like these shoes. Won’t Mommy be beautiful walking on those streets in these shoes? My eyes flooded with tears, as I looked into her wide-eyed, tear-streaked face. Yes, I answered, I am sure she will.

Silently, I thanked God for using these children who reminded me of the true spirit of giving.

Holy Grounds

REV. WILEY S. DRAKE—THE FIRST SOUTHERN BAPTIST CHURCH

0   On a cool November morning in 1989, I arrived at the church with the intention of doing my morning Bible study for sermon preparation. As I walked around the church property to make sure everything was OK, I noticed what appeared to be a person curled up in our covered walkway, next to the central heating unit, close to one of the vents. In all my religious indignation I thought, How dare this bum desecrate church property by just curling up like an old dog in our walkway, and especially on God’s property?

1   Inudged the body with my foot, not wanting to dirty my hands, to no avail. After several nudges or kicks, the body of an old man slowly came to life and lay there on the sidewalk cursing me for awakening him so rudely. I bent over, grabbed him by his dirty, damp lapels, pulled him to his feet and said, How dare you come onto God’s property, drunk, and desecrate these holy grounds.

At that juncture I could smell the reeking aroma of urine, sweat, and alcohol. I once again grabbed the old person by

his shoulders with the intention of turning him around to march him off our property. As I grabbed him by the shoulders, but before I could turn him around he said, I never thought that a preacher would treat me this way. With those words ringing in my ears, I spun him around and pushed him in the direction of the street.

For the next few seconds, his old man did his best to put one foot in front of the other, attempting to walk without falling under this new power I had given him. As he stumbled, almost falling with every step under my powerful push, I remembered thinking, Boy, I hope he doesn’t fall and hurt himself. I know we could be sued if that happened. For the next few minutes I was relieved to see that he did not fall as he stumbled off our holy property.

After this encounter, I stormed into my office, slammed down my Bible to the desk in all my indignation, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went to my desk to settle down and begin my much-needed Bible study for my sermon preparation. As I took my first sip of coffee, over the cup I could see that my Bible had opened to Matthew 25:40 Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

I heard no audible voice, but Jesus said to me, You just kicked me off your church property.

Only a few moments had passed since I had sent His old drunk on his way. But in my fear of the Lord I said, Please let me find that man to ask him to forgive me for treating him so badly. I ran to the walkway, out into the street and in the direction he was traveling, but to no avail. That morning I searched all of Buena Park, contacted the police and local hospitals, but was never able to find the man I had treated so badly.

After my search, I sat in my office talking to the Lord about my ministry, here in Buena Park. We had gone door to door asking people to come, but none came. My question to the Lord was, How can we minister to the community? The

Lord told me that morning, Just minister to the complete needs of the people I bring to your property.

After the Lord told me to minister to those he would bring to our property, I made two promises to Him. One, I would no longer worry about trying to get people to come to our church, but simply minister completely to those He would bring. And, two, I promised the Lord that morning that I would never again kick any person off the church property who was sincerely seeking help, and wanting to know about Jesus.

Many times over the past seven years I have asked the Lord, Are these the people you are bringing? They are not quite what I thought you would bring. Every time the Lord would say to me, Let me bring those I want to bring you. You just meet their needs, and tell them about me. I have begged the Lord to let me end this kind of ministry hundreds of times. Every time He’d say, Remember your promises to me. Meet the needs of the people I bring to you, and I will provide all your needs.

He has provided all that we have needed. Hundreds have come to know Him as Lord and Savior and put their lives back together, and many are no longer on the street or on welfare. I am humbled by the fact that God has allowed me to be a part of the great work He is doing here, in Buena Park. And I am so thankful that He continues to do a great work with or without me, sometimes even in spite of me and my humanness and failure.

I am also convinced that with or without me, what God has begun here, He will continue. My heart’s desire is that He will allow me to continue to be His steward and shepherd to the flock here. My best days, I believe, are ahead of us. They are in His hand and control.

As the under-shepherd to Jesus Christ, I invite all God’s saints to come and be a part of His great work in His direction of justice, mercy, and faith. To God is all the glory. As we work together, may we deflect any praise that comes to us to the God who loved us so much that He gave His only begotten Son that we might all have eternal life.

Rev. Wiley Drake is the pastor of the First Southern Baptist Church in Buena Park. The church allows homeless people to stay on church property. Wiley was found guilty of violating city zoning ordinances and faces up to six months in jail and a $1,000fine for each of four counts.

Homeless For Eight Years

DAVID—THE BOWERY MISSION

I was homeless for eight years. I slept in cardboard boxes in the dead of winter. I descended deep into dangerous subway tunnels where the screech of trains shook me from my sleep and where I competed with rats for food. Sometimes the police would chase me out of the subways, even on the coldest of winter nights.

I grew up in a strict family. My mother would not let me associate with the rough crowd that gathered at the curb just outside our city apartment. But I watched it all from my window and resented my mother’s protectiveness.

I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be hip. I looked out the window and saw everything my friends were doing, like smoking reefer, drinking wine, and stealing. I rebelled and started doing the same things to fit in.

Eventually I got into drugs. Even worse, I became a crack addict. My addiction to crack cost me my job and family. I stole from family in order to support my habit. I haven’t seen

my family in eight to ten years at this point. Several times they tried to contact me at a local shelter. But I was too ashamed to return the call.

Finally, I grew tired of my suffering. I had been to The Bowery Mission a few times for a meal or a shower and fresh set of clothes. I also knew people who had graduated from the Mission’s residential program. They had been friends of mine on the street—homeless, filthy and drug-addicted like me. But, they left the Mission changed. They had a new countenance and a new purpose.

I saw the change the Lord had made in so many people. So, I too came to the Mission and asked to enter the program. In here I got the impression of peace. There aren’t a lot of nice people out there in the city, with the drugs and all that come with them. The city can be a hostile place.

Now I want to live a healthy life, have a family and get a job. The Mission is a place where people like me, who were homeless and strung out on drugs, can receive food, clothing, shelter, and the Gospel. This place provides for homeless people seven days a week with three meals a day, overnight shelter, showers and clothing.

I’ve been clean from drugs for two months. I’m starting to feel good about myself and I’m almost ready to call my family. Without God and the Mission, I would be on the streets, probably smoking crack and continuing to kill myself slowly.

The Party

JANET BARTHOLOMEW

It was a party I wanted to attend, and why not? I grew up with the birthday girl. I remember her family—so poor. After my friend’s mother died in a car accident, she raised her seven brothers and sister. Now! She had it all—the house, three kids, a hard-working man. It was her birthday. And I was going, no matter what!

Why was I doing this? I had little money, no gas cards, and a sorry car that should be discarded. What was I thinking?

During the drive with my six-year old daughter, we talked and laughed and sang to make the drive fun. We made it to the party, and had a great time. The time passed quickly. Now it was late, and I had to drive home.

She lived in the country, so the streets were curved, long and dark. As I entered the last curve to the freeway, my car was losing its acceleration. I decided to turn back for help. I was overwhelmed with feelings of despair and hopelessness, all in one moment. I was in a dark, scary place, with no light except my car’s headlights.

The car stopped. I tried several times to start it. I tried again and again, but there was no response. I knew that the

lights would go next. I had a choice to make. Trying to be calm, I knew what I had to do. I told my daughter we had to get out of car before another car hit us. At that moment I put my head down on the steering wheel and yelled really loudly, I need you now, Lord! God, help me! Help me, now! I felt a spark of light in my heart that told me to try and start the car. I told my daughter I was going to try and start the car one more time, and not to be afraid. Ok, Mommy, she said. The car started. We coasted down around the curves of the highway about three miles per hour, when I heard the sound of my engine coming apart. I knew the car was doomed. I found an open place to pull in for safety. Then the car checked out forever. I sat there for a second to grasp what had taken place. I looked around and saw a home, the only home for miles. Their lights were on. Oh, Jennie, I said, We have to get help. I took her hand and walked up the driveway. In an open yard there were two people. A woman asked, Can we help you? It was 1:00 in the morning. Please, I said, Don’t be afraid, but we need your help.

With open arms, these wonderful people said, What can we do? I told them what had happened to my car. How scary for you. Would you like some coffee? Yes, I said. They gave Jennie some milk. They sure helped to calm our nerves. They told me to use the phone in the bedroom to call a tow truck. As I picked up the phone to call, I saw a bible by the bedside. I made my call, and help was on the way. I knew that my prayer was answered. I knew that God had helped me again in my time of need. The car was hauled away for good.

I gave thanks and my appreciation to the people who helped me. Jennie and I waved goodbye as we pulled out of the driveway.

I’ve visited my friend frequently since this event, but I’ve never been able to locate the house with the very kind people.

The Play

JANET BARTHOLOMEW

It was my senior year, a very important time for me. I had to make good grades and get that diploma. My drama class and the English department got together and decided to have fun with the senior class. We had to write a one-act play. I was terrified. I knew that this was the end—I can’t even write a good letter. I knew I was doomed. I tried to write something, but most of it ended up in the trash.

I cried. I asked God to help me come up with something good enough so I could graduate. The next day at school, I was sitting on the floor by the drama room. I took out my pencil, and said, If you want a play, I’ll give you a play. Where did this attitude come from? I started to write, and the story came out. This is in me? Wow, this is good! I could not put my pencil down. The story was fascinating. At home, I wrote all night. I thought the play was good enough to get a fair grade. I was so relieved. I thanked God.

A week later, the director called me for a meeting. I thought, Oh, boy! It must be really bad. I was nervous and afraid that I would have to do it over. The director started asking me questions about my play. How did I come up with

this idea? What did I think about the situations that I had put into the story? I answered his questions, and was not nervous anymore. It felt good that someone was interested in what I had written. The next question was, How would you like to have your play presented to the student body? Well, this was a shock! I was overwhelmed.