For those that have not yet lost a loved one, they will at some point in their lives. For those of us that have, we know of the grief that hits us, especially during the holidays and other special times of year. Like their birthdays, mothers and fathers day and the like. There are plenty of people out there that do not have Christ, do not know of him, do not care to know him. And when those holidays come around, their grief is compounded because they have no hope of ever seeing that person again.
The story below does not come from a celebration of "Thanksgiving" per say. However, it is still be befitting of that day and everyday for that matter, because many loved ones have passed and will no longer be at our dinner tables this year. And yet it centers on our grief as that day approaches.
A sign from heaven that gave Julie Ziglar peace to know where her father was once he passed on. You may find her story and others of faith at: A Sign in the Heavens | Guideposts
Read on:
A Sign in the Heavens
Julie Ziglar Norman reminds us that even at the darkest times we have reason to rejoice.
by From 
- Posted on Jun 27, 2013
He was 86. His spirit remained strong but the light in his eyes had dimmed and I had to wonder if this was the last time we’d see each other. My dad, the motivational speaker Zig Ziglar, was known the world over for his energy, optimism and faith. The interesting thing is, he came to that faith in his mid-forties.
It was the night of July 4, 1972, not long after he left a successful career as a salesman to pursue public speaking full time. He’d grown up in a church-going family but he had more doubts than belief.
That night he was out in his swimming pool when he was struck by the urge to pray, as his friend Sister Jessie had been encouraging him to do. Was God real? he asked. Was he truly present in our day-to-day lives? Dad lay back in the water and stared up into the heavens.
All at once a shooting star streaked across the sky. He was startled and elated. A warmth filled him, like the light from the star. He knew with the utmost certainty the answers to his questions. And he knew that he needed to share not just his energy and optimism in his speeches but his faith.
Dad often talked about the sign he saw. Maybe that’s why I looked up myself that afternoon, driving home from visiting him. Clouds were skimming across the Texas sky. Then I saw it, a cloud in the unmistakable shape of a Z.
Z for Ziglar.
I pulled over, grabbed my cell phone and took a picture. It wasn’t till later that I realized the camera function must have been set to video. I showed the recording to my brother and sister when we were keeping vigil in Dad’s hospital room. He’d been rushed there on Thanksgiving with pneumonia.
We’re sorry, but there’s no hope,” the doctors told us. Dad would have argued that meeting his savior was more than hope enough. My prayers were for his time on earth to end peacefully. That was how he died six days later, in his sleep.
The family met to plan the funeral. Dad had spelled out exactly what he wanted for the “big church memorial,” as he called it—down to which Bible passages to read and which songs to sing. But for the private graveside service that would come first, he gave free rein to his pastor, Jack Graham.
Someone suggested that we get a better quality image of the Z cloud for the memorial program. I found the video on my phone and pressed “play.” Who was talking in the background? I hadn’t noticed it before.
I turned up the volume—it was the preacher from the car radio. He was quoting from I Thessalonians 4:13–18: “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope...”
Hope. That was what Dad was all about. “Hey, y’all, listen to this,” I said to my family and played the video again. We’d have to tell Pastor Graham about this after the graveside service. He would be as moved as we were.
The next morning we gathered at the cemetery. “Years ago I committed to memory certain Bible verses,” Pastor Graham began. “Verses that I believe God wants me to share with you today.” He started quoting the Scripture.
My brother and I looked at each other, stunned. Then we said quietly along with Pastor Graham, “...that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.”
Dad was in his eternal home, and like Dad, I had looked to the heavens and had seen a sign telling me with the utmost certainty that I would see him again.
💓
My own father had passed on November 15, 2005. He was 83. Some would say that I lost him. I didn't lose him, Friends. I knew then as well as I know now, that I know where he is. He is with his heavenly Father, just as the man is, in the story. And even though these celebrations ahead can be tough, and years later we still grieve for them, we know can know where they are, and have the hope oourselves of one day going to where they are.
Thanks for coming by. Have a wonderful day today. And may God bless you!
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