3 Mysterious Stories of Divine Hands at Work

These righteous testimonials illustrate a heaven-sent presence that provided spiritual comfort, aid and healing.

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Posted in , Jan 25, 2022

An illustration depicting two overlapping hands; ILLUSTRATION BY SANDRA DIONISI

As God says in Isaiah 41:10, “I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” In the amazing cases of these three Mysterious Ways readers, that righteous hand was a physical presence that brought them much-needed comfort, miraculous aid and spiritual healing.

Shirley Palmer from West Sparta, New York

I had breast cancer and needed an MRI. In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I was filled with dread. I’d always struggled with claustrophobia, and the idea of being in a tiny space with no room to move, bombarded with the loud noise of the MRI machine, sent me into a panic. When the nurse called my name, I stood shakily. Dear Lord, please help me. I’m not sure I have the strength to get through this.

The MRI technician helped me onto the stretcher that went into the machine, all the while explaining what was going to happen. “I’ll be right over here,” she said, pointing to a small room with a glass window. I nodded. She walked to the room. The machine came on and moved the upper half of my body inside the machine. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, my anxiety spiking.

Then I felt a hand take mine, warm and comforting. The technician must have noticed how nervous I was and came in to reassure me. How kind of her, I thought. I felt my body relax. My fear left me. As the machine clanged around me, I focused on the hand that held mine. When the MRI was done, the technician let go.

The machine slid me back out, and the technician helped me sit up.

“Thank you for holding my hand,” I said. “It really helped. It gave me the strength to get through this.”

The technician looked at me, confused. “I didn’t hold your hand,” she said. “I was over in that room the whole time. No one else was in here.”

Donna Griffith from Lafayette, Tennessee

Mom and I had always relied on one another. I worked at a fast-food restaurant, but before and after my shifts, she served me the best home-cooked breakfast and dinner a girl could want. Plus, she gave me expert foot rubs, which came in handy. But most of all I looked forward to our evening walks. One evening, we walked down the road to the first major intersection. “Look both ways before you cross,” Mom said.

“Always the mother hen,” I said. Always trying to take care of me. Just as I was always trying to take care of her. I wished there was someone to take care of both of us.

There weren’t any cars coming, so we stepped into the crosswalk. Halfway across the street, I heard tires screech. A sedan was barreling toward us! There was no time to run. “Jesus—” I said, bracing for impact.

That’s when I felt them: two strong hands on my upper arms. The car was so close I could make out specks of dirt on the shiny front grille. The hands lifted me up and pulled me backward, and I felt a rush of wind as the car passed right in front of me. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the sidewalk across the street, the cool concrete under my palms.

“Mom!” I yelled.

I expected to see her lying injured in the road. But she was sitting a few feet away from me on the sidewalk, looking bewildered. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Are you?”

“I’m fine. Someone picked me up right before the car hit and set me down over here. But how did you get away in time?”

“Whoever helped you somehow helped me too,” I said.

We looked around in every direction, but there was no one in sight. I was unsure about exactly what happened, but I’d never felt so cared for. Maybe there was someone else Mom and I could rely on.

Jennifer Van Allen from St. Petersburg, Florida

I sat in the lecture hall at a women's retreat, weariness clouding my mind.

My friend had invited me to the all-day event, hoping it would help. I didn’t really want to be there.

My life wasn’t turning out the way I’d expected. I was single, struggling to pay my bills and living far from my family. Worst of all, it felt as if God wasn’t hearing me. I’d been praying for help, but nothing had changed. I felt lonely, disconnected and despondent.

The speaker finished up the lecture and announced a moment for prayer. “You can go anywhere in the building,” she said. I stood up and walked to a quiet alcove in the hallway where I could be alone. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, but I was all prayed out. I had nothing left to ask. I just existed in that moment.

After a minute, I felt a hand rubbing my back. It was healing, freeing. I didn’t want it to stop, so I dared not open my eyes. My loneliness and disappointment lifted, and all I could feel was peace. I felt loved. And I felt a hopefulness for the future. A smile spread across my face. I hadn’t smiled like that in a long time.

I don’t know how long I stood there. When I finally opened my eyes and looked around, no one was there. It took some time after that healing touch for things to change, but with every step, I remembered the heavenly hand that held me up at my lowest.

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