Beyond the ordinary
Have you ever experienced something so surreal it felt like a moment from The Twilight Zone?
One muggy summer night in 2016, I found myself in the midst of a hurricane, desperately trying to get my children home safely. Little did I know, what seemed like a routine drive would turn into an extraordinary testimony of divine protection—one that still sends chills down my spine.
As the floodwaters rose and my car stalled in the middle of a chaotic intersection, I had no choice but to call out to God for help. And then, just like that, something beyond explanation happened.
An unexpected messenger.
A miraculous intervention.
A revelation that confirmed the presence of angels among us.
This is my story of faith, survival, and an encounter with the supernatural that defied all logic.
The Storm Begins
It was late, past 10:30 PM, when I left home to pick up my two older sons from their shift at a fast-food restaurant near downtown. The restaurant sat in a small Jewish pocket of the city, just outside the downtown area.
The rain had intensified as I drove—a clear sign that the storm was worsening. To avoid delays, I called my boys and asked them to be ready the moment I arrived. They agreed—but deep down, I knew they wouldn’t be.
When I pulled up, the restaurant’s lobby was still brightly lit—no signs of closing. Through the window, I could see my sons finishing up their tasks with the manager. They signaled they’d need another 10 to 15 minutes and sent a quick text to confirm.
Sighing, I returned to my car, where their two younger sisters were waiting.
A Mysterious Messenger
As we sat in the parking lot, rain pounding against the windshield, I noticed something unusual. A man dressed in what appeared to be a crossing guard’s smock was circling the lot on a red Schwinn bike. He had blond hair, square-rimmed glasses—something about him seemed off.
"Who rides a bike in the middle of a hurricane?" I thought.
Then, as if responding to my unspoken question, he approached.
“Hello, ma’am. Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, his expression unreadable.
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m waiting for my sons to get off work so I can get them home before the flooding gets worse.”
He nodded. “Alright. I’m here to help keep folks safe. I’ll check back in a few and make sure you get home.”
I thanked him as he pedaled away, disappearing behind the restaurant.
Faith in the Floodwaters
Thirty minutes later, my boys finally emerged, climbing into the car. As we drove through the city, the urgency of my request became glaringly obvious. Water pooled in the streets. Drivers maneuvered anxiously. My sons took in the scene.
“Wow, there’s a lot of flooding,” my oldest said.
“I hope we make it home,” my middle son added.
I nodded. “We still have to get through Five Points—that’s where the worst flooding will be.”
As we neared the intersection, something strange happened. A police car ahead suddenly made a sharp U-turn. The dimly lit streets obscured whatever had prompted the officer’s quick maneuver.
Then, without warning, my Hyundai Sonata stalled.
Dashboard lights flickered.
The engine cut off.
The car began to float.
Water surged around us, rising higher with each passing second. My daughters gripped their seats in fear. My sons remained calm—but tension filled the air.
I called out to God. My voice trembled.
“Lord, just help me get home. My 14-year-old son is waiting there for us. Just help me get home.”
A strange peace settled over me as I watched the water rise. The high school was on the right. The apartment complex—our home—was on the left.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the floating stopped.
The water had receded just enough for me to try the key again.
The engine roared to life.
I didn’t hesitate. I drove toward our apartment building, watching as others abandoned their vehicles, struggling to escape the rising floodwaters. My children and I had made it—barely.
A Divine Revelation
Once home, my older boys helped their sisters inside while I checked on my youngest son. He was safe—just as I had prayed he would be.
But as I sat in the car, something gnawed at me.
No exterior damage.
The engine ran smoothly.
It was as if none of it had happened.
Then, realization struck.
The blond man on the red Schwinn bicycle—the crossing guard with the unreadable expression—wasn’t just a man.
He was an angel.
He had appeared just before the storm worsened, gently warning me of impending danger. His presence, his words—he had been sent to guide and protect us.
Tears welled in my eyes as two scriptures echoed in my mind:
“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it.” — Hebrews 13:2
“Before they call, I will answer; while they are still speaking, I will hear.” — Isaiah 65:24
That night wasn’t a Twilight Zone moment.
It was divine protection.
It was the Amazing Grace of God.
Have you ever had an unexplainable experience that felt like divine intervention?
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