My First Trip to Jogjakarta. Miracle at the Airport: A Race Against Time

MORRIS CERULLO SCHOOL OF MINISTRY, JAKARTA, 13 JULY - 20 JULY 1984

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Miracle at the Airport: A Race Against Time
By Yee Gerard

It was Wednesday, July 11, 1984, a bright, sunny day. My flight to Jogjakarta was scheduled for 2:20 p.m., and I arrived at the airport around 11:45 a.m., feeling calm and excited. I went to the departure area to greet my friend and his group. We chatted as we waited for the check-in counters to open, unaware that within an hour, my day would turn into a race against time.

At 12:35 p.m., I reached into my small bag to prepare for check-in. And then… my heart sank. My passport had expired a month ago. Panic gripped me. The line was forming quickly, and everyone was hurrying. I couldn’t board the plane without it. I told my friend to watch my luggage and bolted toward the Federal Building, two kilometers away, where the Immigration Department was located.

I arrived at 1:15 p.m., lunch hour in full swing. At the desk sat an officer, quietly sipping his coffee. My voice trembled as I pleaded, “Sir, please help me! My passport has expired, and I have a flight at 2:20 p.m. today!” At that moment, I prayed silently, asking God to bless this officer so he could assist me.

The officer looked up calmly and asked, “How much did it cost?” I told him, “$600, sir.” Without hesitation, he handed me a form to sign. I signed it, my heart overflowing with gratitude and silent prayers of thanks. Within minutes, he returned my passport, now valid for three more months, asking for just $5.

I dashed out, catching a cab, my mind racing and my heart pounding. By 1:50 p.m., I reached the airport. “Praise God, I made it!” I exclaimed. My friend, anxiously waiting, told me the flight had been postponed to 3:00 p.m. I checked in my bags, boarded the plane, and finally exhaled.

Looking back, I realize how miraculous it was. Every detail—the kind officer, the timely flight delay, the speed of the process—was orchestrated. That day, I saw God’s hand guiding me, protecting me, and answering my prayers in ways I could never have planned.

It was a vivid reminder that in moments of crisis, God’s providence is real and always present.

— Yee Gerard

Clay Balls

A man was exploring caves by the Seashore. In one of the caves he found a canvas bag with a bunch of hardened clay balls. It was like someone had rolled clay balls and left them out in the sun to bake. They didn't look like much, but they intrigued the man, so he took the bag out of the cave with him. As he strolled along the beach, he would throw the clay balls one at a time out into the ocean as far as he could.

He thought little about it, until he dropped one of the clay balls and it cracked open on a rock . Inside was a beautiful, precious stone!

Excited, the man started breaking open the remaining clay balls. Each contained a similar treasure. He found thousands of dollars worth of jewels in the 20 or so clay balls he had left.

Then it struck him. He had been on the beach a long time. He had thrown maybe 50 or 60 of the clay balls with their hidden treasure into the ocean waves.. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have taken home tens of thousands, but he had just thrown it away!

It's like that with people. We look at someone, maybe even ourselves, and we see the external clay vessel. It doesn't look like much from the outside. It isn't always beautiful or sparkling, so we discount it..

We see that person as less important than someone more beautiful or stylish or well known or wealthy. But we have not taken the time to find the treasure hidden inside that person.

There is a treasure in each and every one of us. If we take the time to get to know that person, and if we ask God to show us that person the way He sees them, then the clay begins to peel away and the brilliant gem begins to shine forth.

May we not come to the end of our lives and find out that we have thrown away a fortune in friendships because the gems were hidden in bits of clay. May we see the people in our world as God sees them.

Guardian Angels

I could never forget this visitation. When I was five years old one morning in 1963, two blue Sisters came to our home. Each of them carry a bag filled with books and pictures. They came to sell their cartoon booklets. One of the Sisters took out a 8" x 10" poster and showed it to me. She described the picture and told me that Jesus sent his angel to me protect me whenever I cross a bridge or road. He would be watching over me and protecting me everyday. My love for Jesus grew ever since. I do not remember the faces of the blue Sisters but their works bear fruits.

Nowadays I saw the Jehovah Witness and the Mormons moving from house to house in two carrying with them booklets and leaflets. But I have not seen the St. Franciscans Sisters doing that anymore.

A Short Story of Tommy

"Do you think I'll ever find God?"
Rev.John Powell
Professor at Loyola University in Chicago,
writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy.

Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith.
That was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange... Very strange.
Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
Then he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do you think I'll ever find God?"
I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.
"Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing."
I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out, "Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!" He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.
I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line -- He will find you! At least I thought it was clever
Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful.
Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe. "Tommy, I've thought about you so often; I hear you are sick," I blurted out.
"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks."
"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.
Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied
"What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying?
"Well, it could be worse.
"Like what?
"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life..
I began to look through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as strange... (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!) He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.' I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time.
(My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)
"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God.. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying.. And then you quit.
"Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.'"
"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him. "Dad.
"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper.
"Dad, I would like to talk with you."
"Well, talk."
"I mean. It's really important."
The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What is it?"
"Dad, I love you, I just wanted you to know that." Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him. "The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me."
"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years.
"I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.
"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks.'"
"Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him."
"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.' Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it.
"Oooh.. I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."
"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."
In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date.
However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.
Before he died, we talked one last time.
"I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.
"I know, Tom."
" Will you tell them for me? Will you ... tell the whole world for me?"
I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best."

With thanks, Rev. John Powell, Professor
Loyola University, Chicago

A Ladder with Missing Steps: From Struggle to Blessing: Gerard’s Journey

From Struggle to Blessing: Gerard’s Journey
By Calvin, 1997

When I first met Gerard, life had not been kind to him. A failed business had left him struggling to make ends meet, and providing for his children often meant skipping meals or going without new clothes or shoes. The old Ford Cortina he drove seemed to have a personality of its own, constantly needing repairs. Sometimes he would attend prayer meetings on an empty stomach, partly fasting, partly saving what little money he had.

Gerard once shared with me something deeply humbling: when he prayed in church, he avoided kneeling because he was ashamed for anyone to see the worn soles of his shoes. He had only one pair—the shoes he wore on his wedding day, now five years old. His prayer was simple and heartfelt: God, please bless me with a new pair of shoes.

As he grew closer to our congregation, Gerard confided in our pastor about his struggles. One day, during a prayer session, the pastor shared a vision: he saw Gerard climbing a ladder, but some steps were missing. The pastor interpreted it as a message—Gerard had to discover what those missing steps were.

A few weeks later, the Sacred Heart Cathedral hosted a charismatic revival gathering, attracting delegates from around the world. It was here that Gerard was to meet a man who would reveal the missing steps.

Gerard recounted the encounter:

"One of my best friends, John Pelly, drove me to the convention. After the meeting, John arranged supper with some delegates. We split into two groups, and in our car rode a Pakistani man named Anwar, a youth leader from a charismatic group in Pakistan. I had never met him and had no expectations.

At the coffee shop, Anwar repeatedly told me, 'God has a message for you. I ignored him at first, thinking it impossible, but later, at Simon Ray’s house, he sat beside me and shared the word from God. He revealed the missing steps of the ladder: 'You have to die to your own desires—to self—and walk behind Jesus. 'I finally understood."

That moment marked a turning point in Gerard’s life. Over the next five years, I watched a remarkable transformation unfold. The man who once struggled for basic necessities could now provide abundantly for his family. They went on vacations, traveled to other cities, and bought toys, a new car, and even a truck for his business. Gerard engaged in sports, recreation, social clubs, and learning new skills like computer and internet use. He organized bicycle races and flourished personally, professionally, and spiritually.

Gerard himself testifies: God blessed my life. Through faith, perseverance, and guidance, he discovered the missing steps that led him from struggle to abundance, and he continues to give all glory to Jesus Christ for the remarkable transformation.

The Story of Tommy, the Atheist Theology Student Who Was Found by God-Truth!

The Story of Tommy, the Atheist Theology Student Who Was Found by God-Truth!
This story was written by Father John Powell, a retired professor at Loyola University in Chicago. Father Powell is advanced in years, but TruthOrFiction.com found him and talked with him. The story was fresh in his mind and he confirmed that it is true and happened in the way that he described it.


A real example of the story as it has been circulated:

John Powell a professor at Loyola University in Chicago writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy:

Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the first day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders.

It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn’t what’s on your head but what’s in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped.

I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange ... very strange. Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father-God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.

When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a slightly cynical tone: "Do you think I’ll ever find God?"

I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.

"Oh," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing."

I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out: "Tommy! I don’t think you’ll ever find him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!" He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.

I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line: "He will find you!" At least I thought it was clever. Later I heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly grateful.

Then a sad report, I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted, and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe. "Tommy, I’ve thought about you so often. I hear you are sick!" I blurted out.

"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It’s a matter of weeks."

"Can you talk about it, Tom?"

"Sure, what would you like to know?"

"What’s it like to be only twenty-four and dying?"

"Well, it could be worse."

"Like what?"

"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real ‘biggies’ in life."

I began to look through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification God sends back into my life to educate me.)

But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, " is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!) He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, ‘No!’ which surprised me. Then you said, ‘But he will find you.’ I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. (My "clever" line. He thought about that a lot!) But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, then I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven.

But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit.

Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn’t really care ... about God, about an afterlife, or anything like that. "I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: ‘The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.’ "So I began with the hardest one: my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him."

"Dad". . .

"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper.

"Dad, I would like to talk with you."

"Well, talk."

"I mean. .. It’s really important."

The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What is it?"

"Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that." Tom smiled at me and said with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him: "The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me.

And we talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me. "It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years. I was only sorry about one thing: that I had waited so long. Here I was just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.

"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn’t come to me when I pleaded with him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, ‘C’mon, jump through.’ ‘C’mon, I’ll give you three days .. .three weeks.’ Apparently God does things in his own way and at his own hour. "But the important thing is that he was there. He found me.

You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for him."

"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He said God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.’ Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn’t be half as effective as if you were to tell them."

"Oooh . . . I was ready for you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for your class."

"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call." In a few days Tommy called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it.

He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed.

He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.

Before he died, we talked one last time. "I’m not going to make it to your class," he said.

"I know, Tom."

"Will you tell them for me? Will you . . . tell the whole world for me?"

"I will, Tom. I’ll tell them. I’ll do my best."

So, to all of you who have been kind enough to hear this simple statement about love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven: "I told them, Tommy . ... ...as best I could."


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