When I was about twenty-five years old, living in Chicago, I asked my husband to drive me to the Maryhill Catholic Cemetery. My grandfather had died three or four years earlier and was buried there, but I had never gone to visit him.
My sisters and I had been very close to my grandfather. During our growing up years, he lived with us five days of the week, to help out when our parents were at work. He was a wonderful grandfather. Spending time with him was always a treat. During the day he would take us for walks or we would go to a park or have other fun adventures.
Before my grandfather began to take care of us, he would go to the church daily. He was a very religious man. I remember him praying in his room in the evenings. He also taught us to pray. His relationship with God really impacted me.
On the day I wanted to visit his gravesite I had my license, but my husband at that time drove. He liked to be in control. He always drove me and my son everywhere. My son was about four-years-old at the time. As we navigated the roads through the city, I remember that the sky was overcast and the clouds were dropping a soft mist of rain.
When we arrived at the massive Maryhill Cemetery, we navigated the myriad winding roads. There didn’t seem to be any other vehicles around or people wandering about. The cemetery was eerily quiet and still, the rain keeping everyone indoors.
We passed by some impressive Catholic shrines, the Polish veteran’s memorial, gardens, mausoleums and columbarium niches. This cemetery was so expansive, spanning an area of 251 acres. Roadways divided the cemetery into various grassy sections and there were so many sections. How would I ever find my grandfather in this huge place? As we slowly drove through the winding cemetery roads, I noticed that the majority of the grave markers were flush with the ground, grass-level. Unfortunately, this would make it impossible for me to find my grandfather’s graveside marker. Driving would be futile in locating it.
Reaching an area I assumed would perhaps be the right section, I asked my husband to stop so I could search for it on foot. My son and I walked ahead, while my husband trailed behind with the car. Roadways surrounded the area we were in, with trees planted in certain spots. There were thousands of grass-level markers in each section. After searching for a while, I understood how difficult it would be to simply stumble upon my grandfather’s gravesite by chance.
My husband, ex-husband now, was not a very patient man and he was growing frustrated.
He said, “If you don’t find the grave marker in the next few minutes, then we’re leaving.”
Feeling pressured, with my son at my side, I frantically looked around a bit longer. Knowing I didn’t have much time, I turned my eyes up to heaven and said, “Grandfather, where are you?” Quietly, I repeated this numerous times.
Suddenly I noticed a car slowly approaching down a winding road. The vehicle looked very old. When it reached me, it slowed down and stopped. A man exited and approached.
He said, “Who are you looking for?”
I gave him my grandpa’s name.
“Follow me,” he said.
My son and I hurried back to our vehicle and my husband followed this man as he drove to a different section of the cemetery, as though he knew exactly where the spot was.
When he stopped, we all exited and this man led us to a grave. I looked down to see that he had taken me to the precise place I needed to be. I was truly amazed. My grandfather’s grave marker was staring up at me. I thanked the man and he left.
Although my husband was eager to leave, I stayed a few minutes longer and prayed. I was so grateful that I had found my grandfather and that God sent an angel to lead me to the right place.
Maybe that man in the old car simply happened by at the exact time I needed him. I like to think that God sent an angel my way to guide and direct me to my grandpa’s grave site. God has answered in multiple supernatural ways in my life and I am so thankful for heaven’s help.
This story happened when I was in my twenties. I am now in my sixties and I can confidently say that God has always been there for me. I have never seen the righteous forsaken.
Submitted by: Nadia F.
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Once we get to Heaven and God shows us a reel of our life, we will discover how many times we were rescued, protected or redirected by supernatural means. What a divine privilege it is that, during our time on earth, God gives us snapshots into the supernatural realm, unusual happenings that announce that Heaven is present and involved in our lives.
For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.
Psalm 91:11
If you would like to share a personal story of supernatural protection or angelic activity in your history, please reach out. Private message me on Facebook messenger or email me and I will explain the details. I would love to share your testimony through my newsletter mailout and, if you are willing, on my blog as an encouragement to others. As it says in Hebrews 3:13, “Encourage one another daily, as long as it is called ‘Today’”.
Also, you are welcome to share this story with your friends and family, or with anyone who needs some encouragement.
