Mystery—Unexplained—Awesome

By DiAne Gates –

“As the appearance of the rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the appearance of the surrounding radiance. Such was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. And when I saw it, I fell on my face and heard a voice speaking” (NAS Ezekiel 1:28).

Our Precept Bible group began our Fall Bible study in the Book of Ezekiel. I knew the book was about visions, but had never studied it. The first day’s homework directed us to read Chapter One. That last verse stopped me cold and sent my mind ripping back through the years—

—to a rainy Sunday afternoon, eight years ago when my husband and I were returning from Kansas City with our four-year-old grandson, Noah. Papa drove the car, while Noah and I rode in the backseat and played games and watched the rain splatter on the windshield.

Late in the afternoon, we came into Denton, Texas, on I35 South. It had not rained in weeks. The roads were slick, traffic heavy, and driving difficult.

The sky had cleared in the east and God had painted a spectacular rainbow against the darkness of the passing storm. Noah saw it and squealed in delight. I told him about his biblical namesake.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flashing red taillights of the cars just ahead. Papa barked, “Sit back. Brace Noah. Relax.”

“What?”

I jerked my neck to glance out the back window. An eighteen-wheeler barreled toward us. Another peek forward and I saw the cars in front of us. Stopped. The truck would never be able to stop in that short distance. Not on these roads.

“Oh, Lord, please.” I gasped and smashed my body against the back of the seat and threw my left arm over Noah.

An arc of brilliant color appeared overhead and a luminous golden light shimmered all around us and reflected like a thousand tiny stars over the hood of our car. The power of stillness surrounded us within and without. Utter silence. Peaceful silence. Entrancing silence.

Then it was gone.

How long had it lasted? Minutes? Seconds? I don’t know.

Cars in front of us had stopped. The truck in back of us stopped a few feet from our back bumper. And we stopped. No squealing brakes, no sliding tires, no honking horns. Not a sound.

I sat, unable to speak. Papa let out a sigh and put the car in motion as the cars in front of us moved too. Neither Noah, Papa, nor I said a word for a few minutes. Then I leaned forward and whispered, “Honey, what did you see back there? What happened?”
Papa wiped his forehead and ran his hand down the back of his neck. He turned and “No. Please. Tell me.”

He stammered, “I…it looked like…we were in the middle of a rainbow and the light…was unreal. Golden. Sparkling. So quiet and peaceful.”

Our eyes locked in the rear-view mirror and I whispered, “Me too.”

Papa shrugged his shoulders. “Honey, that back there…,” his head tilted backward, “…was a God thing.”

I turned to Noah. His precious head slumped against the shoulder of his car seat. Sound asleep.

We rode another few miles pondering all that had transpired. Each of us knew a power greater than anything we had ever experienced or known had intervened in our lives. I Eight years later there is still a catch in my throat, and tears in my eyes when my mind plays that scene over again.

And that light—I’m at a loss to describe, paint or interpret it in any way except glorious.

Someway, somehow, the hand of God miraculously spared us that stormy afternoon outside of Denton, Texas. And He allowed us a glimpse into the world around us that we can’t see. Yet.

And wherever you are today, dear reader, God loves you too. And He has a plan for your life. Believe Him. Love Him. Because He alone is faithful.