Shortly after becoming a Christian, my mom decided that she wanted to be baptized.
In Matthew 28:18-20, following Jesus’ resurrection from death, He says, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
The night before her baptism, she recalls “coming under attack”. It was like the enemy was trying to do everything he could do prevent her from being baptized. We lived in a townhouse at the time and our neighbors held an all-night party, keeping her up for the entire night.
The next day we got in her car, a 1980 rear-wheel-drive Mustang, and began the drive to the church. On our way there, a massive storm hit and flooded out the road. About two blocks before the church, her car died.
In the pouring rain at the side of Markham Road, we abandoned the car and ran all the way to the church. Thinking back to that day, I remember my mom’s faith; nothing was going to come between her and testifying her faith in Christ through baptism.
When we left the church, we walked outside and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky or a trace of water on the ground. It was like the storm never happened. But something did happen—something incredible, and I was there to witness it.
I personally don’t remember this next part, but when revisiting the story again with my mom, she says, “Don’t you remember the clouds?” Unfortunately, I don’t—I was probably looking down at my feet. “The clouds… they were amazing,” she says. “The shape of them looked like Jesus standing beside a child. It was amazing.”