When I was about eight years old, I spent the night
with my cousin in a nearby community during my schoolís spring break. My
cousin and I stayed up very late on the last night, playing with her toys
and games. Very early the next morning, I awoke for no apparent reason.
The room was quiet and filled with darkness from the night, and the only
source of light was from the moon radiating soft rays. I crawled to the
end of the bed and peered out of the window. The backyard was quiet. The
animals slept soundly. Everything was serene and peaceful, which I found
I sat there for a
while admiring the quietness of the night. But before long I
could see the day breaking far off to the east. With the first
hint of shallow sunlight, I heard the chirps of birds and saw
the movement of squirrels as they set out to do their morning
routines, gathering straw for nests and worms and nuts for breakfast.
Never before had I noticed them in this way. They seemed animated
in their behavior; every activity seemed deliberate and filled
with joy. I too was filled with joy.
After awhile, I traced
the light beam with my eyes from earth to sky, fully expecting
to find the morning sun overhead. But the light came from a cloud
instead. On the cloud, there stood a man dressed in a long white,
flowing robe tied off with a twisted rope belt and tassels. He
had long, wavy, golden hair that seemed to bounce with the air.
I could see his fingers and his toes in amazing detail. He was
three dimensional, yet he was opaque, such as a sheer curtain.
His entire body was outlined in a silvery light white; even his
toes, fingers, and facial features. This cloud and another one
that partially hid the first stood still, while the other clouds
rolled on through the sky.
The man stood there
on that cloud with his right arm at his side and his left arm
outstretched toward the earth. His hand was extended toward something
down below, and in that direction, a beautiful silvery white
light would radiate from his body towards the earth. He stood
there, looking expressively, sometimes concerned, pleased or
sad for a while. Then he would shift his body somewhat and extend
his left arm and hand in a different direction. Again, the light
would radiate from him toward the earth. He repeated this process
I sat there totally
entranced in what I was seeing. I believe that children see things
differently than adults. They take things at face value more
and donít question what they
see. I was sure I was looking in the face of Jesus. He wore the clothes
of the Jesus of my Bible stories, and he certainly looked like the man from
the Jesus paintings in my Grandmotherís house.
After a while, he
turned to the right and went down on bended knees. He raised
his arms and placed the palms of his hands together, each finger
separated by the silvery white outline. I was now viewing his
profile and could see his mouth moving as he spoke to the heavens.
He continued like this for several minutes. Then he raised himself
and turned to the other direction. Now I was seeing his other
profile. Again, he went down on bended knee and prayed.
The cloud which had
blocked part of the view then moved away, and behind it I was
able to see a huge three-dimensional book that was opaque and
traced in the same silvery white light as Jesus. This book sat
upright and was nearly as tall as Jesus on the cloud. With his
left hand, Jesus reached out, took a page, and turned it. Then
he placed his left hand palm down on the book. He turned his
head to the right and extended his right arm down toward the
earth. Then the light again radiated from his body toward the
earth. After looking upon the earth with emotion for a few minutes,
he would move his hand someplace else on the book. He did not
go through the book from top to bottom and left to right but
would place his hand randomly throughout the book. He continued
this process of hand placing and earth watching for a long time,
and several times he would again turn yet another page.
Soon I began to hear
my aunt stir in the kitchenpots and pans rattling and the sound of bacon frying.
Before long, my cousin and I were called for breakfast. I got up from my
bed post, not saying a word to anyone about what I had witnessed. Quickly
I ate my food so that I could return to watch Jesus on the cloud. When I
returned, however, he, the book, and the cloud were gone.
For many years, I
chose to not tell anyone about my experiencenot for fear of ridicule or disbelief
from others, but simply because it was given to me alone. I knew that one
day I would talk about it, but the vision was meant for me only at that
time. Perhaps, I now believe that God wanted me to wait till I was much
older to tell this story so it would be taken more seriously by others.
Countless times throughout the years I've wondered why God allowed me to
see such a wonderful vision. And now I know that he gave me something that
he wanted me to share with others, and he wants me to know that he is undeniably
real. How can I ever doubt Godís existence when I've seen the face of heaven
firsthand? Jesus is certainly watching over us and praying in our behalf
and sending his light to shine upon us. Perhaps he's not always on a cloud,
but him being there that morning so long ago made a lovely vision and a
sweet amazing memory for a wide-eyed little girl.