Sunday morning on the way to church… (Have I mentioned how much I LOVE Sundays?? Sleeping in, church, football…hear my contented sigh?)… anyway, on the way to church I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful fall foliage, the perfect blue skies, and the puffy cumulus clouds (cumulus clouds are the ones that look like cotton balls by the way-always a teacher;) I had the praise music cranked up in my car and was preparing my heart for the service ahead. And, it was about that time that I remembered another day, years before, when I had been on my way back from a church service and took special notice of the clouds. And, because my last post was a bit heavy, I thought my blogger friends may enjoy a bit of a lighter post.
It was the summer after 7th grade I was 12 years old. My dad was a preacher at a summer camp, a ranch specifically. It was set in the middle of nowhere, literally in the middle of a cornfield. There was a "teen ranch" that was the main camp, and then up this gigantic hill was the "junior ranch." You had to go to the junior ranch until you turned 13. So, that summer, our cabin ruled the junior camp. We were the oldest girls, the alpha cabin…and we thought we were IT. Every evening we would descend the hill on big yellow school busses to attend the service at the “teen ranch” where my dad would deliver the sermon.
On this particular evening we had finished our evening service and were on our way back up the hill on the cheese wagon. Summer church camp tends to bring out some fanatical emotions, not to mention we were all pre-teens, thus hormonal as it was. One of the girls in the back of the bus began hysterically crying, claiming she saw “Jesus in the clouds.” Please keep in mind, my daddy is a southern Baptist preacher, I grew up at a southern Baptist church where Tim LaHaye was an annual visitor and once a year at minimum we heard the “signs of the end times” sermons. So when I heard Jesus was in the clouds I pictured Him descending on a fluffy cloud in the blink of an eye (If my teenage hormones hadn’t been the main force behind my thinking/logic skills at that time I would have realized several blinks of the eye had already passed). Alas, I was certain the rapture was happening-right then.
On this particular evening we had finished our evening service and were on our way back up the hill on the cheese wagon. Summer church camp tends to bring out some fanatical emotions, not to mention we were all pre-teens, thus hormonal as it was. One of the girls in the back of the bus began hysterically crying, claiming she saw “Jesus in the clouds.” Please keep in mind, my daddy is a southern Baptist preacher, I grew up at a southern Baptist church where Tim LaHaye was an annual visitor and once a year at minimum we heard the “signs of the end times” sermons. So when I heard Jesus was in the clouds I pictured Him descending on a fluffy cloud in the blink of an eye (If my teenage hormones hadn’t been the main force behind my thinking/logic skills at that time I would have realized several blinks of the eye had already passed). Alas, I was certain the rapture was happening-right then.
Anyway, a couple of the other girls began to cry as they pointed to the sky outlining the cloud that was apparently in the SHAPE of Jesus thus dispelling my rapture/left behind fears. Around that time a mini-revival broke out on the bus, girls were crying, promising to break their secular CDs, burn their Tiger Beat and Star magazines, as they were certain that the Lord Jesus Christ Himself was making a personal appearance in the form of a cloud. One of the girls then gasped in astonishment announcing, “Look, its transforming into a shepherd, because Jesus is the Great Shepherd.” A few more girls began to cry and then another pubescent girl pointed out that, “Oh my gosh, now it’s a door.” Perhaps Dad had spoken on the names of God from A-Z or something, I don’t really remember. I was half expecting them to shout, “OMG, now it’s the alpha symbol, oh look, omega…”
However, as I was half-way appalled at this ridiculously emotional turn of events, I was also feeling a bit left out. They were all having this bonding moment in the back of the bus and I couldn’t even find animal shapes in the clouds, much less a cloud in the shape of my Savior. By this point, EVERYONE was crying but me. I really don’t like to cry-especially in front of people, but this was totally different. I NEEDED to cry. So, I thought of the saddest thing I could think of and pinched myself…hard. I managed to squeeze a few tears out and then got caught up in the wave of emotions and managed to genuinely cry.
Our poor counselors had no idea what to do with a bus full of crying, snotty, overly emotional girls. Once we reached the top of the hill the counselors had already contacted the camp pastor, read…my Father, whom I have NEVER seen cry (although in the last few years I have seen him get a bit “teary”). When we exited the bus the counselors gathered us in this large field and my dad stood in the center. He calmly and kindly reassured the girls that the Lord works in mysterious ways and if they genuinely felt as though the Lord was sending them a message that evening they should first of all, be sure it was Biblical (i.e. don’t do something crazy in this emotional frenzy) and follow through on the promptings of the Holy Spirit. The girls were satisfactorily reassured and began to return to our cabin to destroy the secular music or trashy magazines they had snuck into their bunks. I was in the middle of the pack when I heard my dad politely ask the counselors to allow me to stay back for a few minutes.
Our poor counselors had no idea what to do with a bus full of crying, snotty, overly emotional girls. Once we reached the top of the hill the counselors had already contacted the camp pastor, read…my Father, whom I have NEVER seen cry (although in the last few years I have seen him get a bit “teary”). When we exited the bus the counselors gathered us in this large field and my dad stood in the center. He calmly and kindly reassured the girls that the Lord works in mysterious ways and if they genuinely felt as though the Lord was sending them a message that evening they should first of all, be sure it was Biblical (i.e. don’t do something crazy in this emotional frenzy) and follow through on the promptings of the Holy Spirit. The girls were satisfactorily reassured and began to return to our cabin to destroy the secular music or trashy magazines they had snuck into their bunks. I was in the middle of the pack when I heard my dad politely ask the counselors to allow me to stay back for a few minutes.
Just as soon as the other campers and counselors were out of earshot he took me by the arm, turned me around to face him, and proceeded to ask “WHY are you crying?” I tried to tell him I didn’t know…I was only crying because the other girls were so upset and I didn’t want to feel left out. I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth when he responded in aghast, “JESUS IN THE CLOUDS?? Really???” But, that wasn’t even what I was crying about. I tried to tell him again that I was only crying because everyone else was, but he wasn’t buying it. And he again reinforced that crying over Jesus in the clouds was one of the SILLIEST things he had ever heard. Then he “gently” told me, “Now, dry up your tears, and go back to your cabin.”
(Disclaimer: My Dad is a passionate man of the Lord. He is a man of character and integrity. I have never doubted his love for me or for the Lord. However, I was twelve, and being a bit ridiculous, and he knew this was outside of my typical character and I needed a little “pep talk” to return to reality…)
So, I made my way back to the cabin, changed into warmer clothes, and embarked on the haywagon that transported us to the annual bonfire where all of the girls really did break their CDs and burn their magazines.
Just a few months ago I ran across this picture:
I sent it to my dad as evidence. Snopes confirmed the picture was a hoax, and 18 years later my dad confirmed that crying over seeing Jesus in the clouds was indeed still silly.
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