“I’ve already had three people welcome me, and this place already feels like home.”

That’s how folks feel Sabbath afternoon when they worship with Boots 'n Bibles at the Gateway Seventh-day Adventist Church on the edge of Grants Pass, Oregon.

What does it take for God to perform a miracle for the ages?

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By Liesl VIstaunet

When Dionisio was being imprisoned and abused, he would never have imagined his experiences could have such a positive impact. Twenty five years later, his story is being read by hundreds (and counting) of young people around the world, while supporting a little church in Cuba, his home country and where his adventures first began.

Chit came to Portland as a refugee from Myanmar. Recently, the sole of the shoe on his prosthetic leg wore out. That’s when his new friend, Adventist bible worker Do So, began working to get Chit’s leg repaired.

“Hello, I’m from Africa and I’d like to be your Internet friend.” For most people in America, that’s an invitation to “Delete” the message and move on. For Emily*, it was an invitation to make a new friend.

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Each summer at Big Lake Youth Camp, more than 200 campers accept Christ as their personal Savior and indicate they would like to be baptized.

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“Off, off and away I go to see Lebanon in a purple boat,”writes Isabella. “I am going to see Lebanon cedars because it is the oldest forest. I will eat Baba Ghannush because I like hummus and flat bread. I will look for honey badgers because they are black with a white stripe.”

"I had my daughter in 2008. The moment she was born, I said, ‘Where does a love like this come from?’ I remember asking my husband in the operating room, ‘Is this what Jesus feels like when He looks at us?’"

“It’s all about my shoes,” Huston explains. “Every night I placemy shoes far under the bed so that when I get up in the morning the first thingI do is kneel down to reach for my shoes. While I’m down there I stay awhile,talking to God about the day, asking Him to be my Guide, and then praying foreach member of my family.”

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Douglas is a funny little man with a slow shuffle and a soft voice. He's lived in Pamplona his whole life, in the same house. Unlike other shelter directors I've visited, Douglas was a little hesitant at first to give me a tour.

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