Hi Paul,
I think you should do a show on miracles, since it's easy to get
freaked out about the rising tide of evil. In fact, disbelief in
miracles is the Satanists' Achilles heel. Let me remind you of a
little doctrine from your service days. In order to break out of enemy
encirclement, apply maximum force at the enemy's weakest point. Their
weakest point is that they think God is a benchwarmer. The way to
apply maximum force is get people to believe in and rely on miracles.
Keep harping on that and keep digging up fer-instances. Miracles must
be a part of our relationship with God, not some OMGWTF freak
occurrence.
I can think of some anecdotes myself, like:
1. I built a house and did the wiring myself, and also watched as the
city put up the power lines. Not long afterwards, a thunder storm
knocked out power to my neighborhood. My wife and son prayed for power
to come back, and it did. We were without power for two hours. When my
wife asked our neighbors on both sides, one of which is powered by the
exact same transformer as our house, they informed her that they were
without power for six hours. One of them mentioned that they saw we
were running our lights from our solar power plant. We used batteries
and an inverter before we had city power, but at the time of the
outage both the batteries and the inverter were disconnected. I did
all the wiring so I know.
2. In 1991 or 1992, I volunteered to be a parking attendant at the
Hill Cumorah Pageant. I stood in the parking lot watching the cars, so
the anti-mormons wouldn't leave flyers. Well, it started raining.
Hard. Like taking a shower under one of those big pan shower heads. I
regretted not bringing a bar of soap. The thing that amazed me was
that the pageant didn't stop and nobody made a mad dash for their car.
As I found out later, the pageant didn't get rained on. It rained on
either side of the hill and even across the street where the
anti-mormons were standing. But not on the audience.
3. To get money for college, I took a job as a paratrooper. That was
in the days before ragheads and NFL players were used as targets. On
one jump, I prayed for a good landing and felt conformation that I
would have one. I steered toward a clear spot on the drop zone. As I
approached the ground, it started looking like a rough patch of
ground, and I got really nervous the closer I got to the ground. So
I'm looking down (never do that) to see where my feet are going to
land and I instinctively reach for the ground. That's a good way to
break some toes, but as I reached I saw my feet hit dead center in the
middle of a puddle of water about 18" across and 3 feet long. It was
my softest landing ever. As fas as I could tell, by feet were
perfectly aligned with and centered in the hole. On a half-mile drop
zone.
There are many more stories.
But consider the words of God after the three days of darkness in
Nephiteland. "How often I would have gathered you under my wings, as a
hen gathers her chickens, but you would not". I think these words were
spoken for our benefit, in our day. It couldn't have been a big "I
told you so". He wanted us to know that he is our refuge.
--Brad