Posted by: peebles | July 3, 2014

Isaiah 32:2 (NIV) Each one will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm.

Even though it was a beautiful day in July 1968, the stifling humidity meant that all the windows in the house were open, as well as the front and back doors. It was about 5:30 p.m, as a family gathered around the table for their meal. Just as the father was about pass the salad bowl over to his daughter who was sitting to his left and his other daughter to his right with his wife directly across from him, they heard a distant rumble of thunder. Suddenly, everyone just looked at each other and then, the father, mother and a ten year old daughter fixed their eyes on the little six year old daughter who was holding a piece of paper in her hand.
The rumble of thunder grew nearer and clattered as the skies grew darker. Suddenly, the crackle of hail stones could be heard falling on the roof. At first, it was only one or two taps, falling one after the other in quick succession like a drummer tapping his drum sticks in a forward quick marching beat, and then with a huge clap of thunder, the sound of which could be heard for many miles across the open countryside, the hail poured down with such intensity it sounded as though there were 1,000 sledge hammers all striking hard off the roof.
“Quick! To the basement!”, shouted the father to his wife and two small children, as they rushed down to the basement and closed the door behind. No sooner had they gotten there, they heard the sound of glass smashing as the windows of their house were broken by the storm. Quickly, they all took refuge under a worktop bench, and as the family huddled together in the basement it felt as if the house was moving. The horrible creaking noises that a piece of wood would make just before it snaps, then the awful noise of banging, clattering and smashing noises were heard with such a deafening din that it drowned out everything else, even the frightening cries and screams of a 10 year old girl, grabbing at her mother and father to pull them closer in a desperate act of “please help me, please protect me, I am scared”.  Gripped by fear she began shouting, “We’re going to die, we’re all going to die!” But the younger daughter said in a claim voice, “Everything is going to be alright, we are not going to die.” In her hand she held a piece of paper with a drawing on it.
Outside, hail bounced three to four feet off the ground, as the hail grew in size from small ones, the size of marbles, to large ones, the size of tennis balls, smashing off whatever they hit, shooting like bullets from the sky above. The wind was howling with a vicious temper, raging with a venomous roar and uprooting trees and sending objects flying through the air like rag dolls being tossed to and fro. Suddenly, lightening flashed across the skies and through the clouds striking downward, lightening bolts so huge that they stretched from the clouds to the ground, like a direct current of electrical power surging with an unbelievable destructive force. Whatever it struck it tore apart in anger.
The lights in the basement flickered and then went out, as the family was plunged into a terrible darkness. The sound of a house being pulled apart was like the sound of a huge demolition metal weight pounding it to the ground. The thunderous noise can be heard and felt by the family in the basement as even the very foundations of the house were shaking, as if hit by an earthquake, with items within the basement falling all around the family, and dust everywhere.
The thunder slowly died down and the wind stopped howling as the hail began to turn to rain. No sooner had the storm begun than it was over, it lasted all of an hour but felt much longer. The family waited until the rain stopped and they could no longer hear the roll of thunder. The father was the first to speak, “Is everyone OK?” He calls out to his family in the darkness and pulls them near. One by one they reply, “Yes, we are fine.” Then the father pushes aside the rubble which has fallen on top of the workbench and climbs through it. Then, he heads towards the stairs, but as he walked up the stairs of what was left of the basement he could see sunlight peering through the gap at the bottom of the basement door. Slowly, the father, with his heart racing, reaches for the door handle and opens the door. As he does so, the sunlight spills into the basement, and for a brief moment he scrunches his eyes closed, for them to adjust to the sunlight, to reveal, to his horror, the full extent of the impact of utter destruction which the storm had left behind. His whole house from the ground up was gone, with only splinters of wood sticking out of the ground and his whole street where he lived looked like a war zone. Be before the storm, the street where he and has family lived had eight houses in all, which stood all clustered together in the shape of a horseshoe. Now, not one remained, every one had been flatten to the ground by the tornado which passed through his street.
Slowly, one by one the families from the mass carnage emerged from their basements; every one of them holding a piece of paper with a drawing on it.
Six days earlier, in a make shift Sunday school, which was made by the local resident and doubled as a church, five children sat and listened as the Sunday school teacher taught on Noah and the Ark from Genesis chapters 6 through 9. The teacher had asked the class to draw the Ark and imagine God had spoken to them for their families to go into the Ark, and to imagine themselves going inside the Ark, and for it to be a safe place of refuge for them. One of the little girls drew her house and at the bottom of her house was her basement with a drawing of her dad, mum and her big sister all together in a safe place of refuge, with a huge black cloud over the top of their house. When the teacher asked why she drew her house instead of an Ark, the little girl replied, “I don’t know, all I know is that my basement is my safe place.” The teacher just smiled and thought nothing more of it.
That night the little six year old girl had a dream about the Ark and about the eight people who were saved, then a voice in her dreams told her to draw a picture of a house in the shape of an Ark with a basement and in five days time when the people heard the sound of rain like a drum, they must all go into the Ark for safety. So, when she got home after school she told her dream to her mum, who smiled and said, “Wow, honey that’s a great dream, you must have really enjoyed Sunday school.” She then turned to her dad, still very excited, and told him about the dream also. He listened intently and said, “Can you draw it for daddy?” The little girl went off into her room and reappeared about 20 minutes later with a drawing of her family within a house shaped like an Ark with a very dark could over it. She wrote on the piece of paper, “In five days time when you hear the sound of rain like a drummer run into the basement, the Ark is your house,” and just under it, she wrote this verse of Scripture from Isaiah 32:2 (NIV), “Each one will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm.”
When her daddy looked at picture and saw the verse of Scripture he was puzzled because there had not been a single report of storm in the area where he lived. Even before he had moved to the sleepy town 16 miles off Route 66 in America. His little girl then said, “Daddy, can you come with me? I want to give every one of our neighbors a copy of my picture. I was told in the dream to make a copy for them and give it to them and warn them just like Noah did in my Sunday school lesson. Please, daddy, it’s very important.” How could her dad refuse his little girl her request? So, he helped her make seven copies of the drawing and write her words and the Scripture verse on it; one for every household in his street. Then, they went out and knocked on all their neighbors’ doors as the little girl told every one one them her story, and then handed them her drawing. Just before she left she told them she said, “Now remember in five days time when you hear the sound of rain like a drummer on his drum, you must run into the Ark, into your basement were you will all be safe.” They all nodded and smiled as if to agree with the little girl and thanked her. The last person whose door she knocked on was that of her Sunday school teacher, who listened more intently than all the rest, and said, “Wow, this is just like the drawing you made in Sunday school, I will put this on the door of my basement so when I walk past it everyday I will know what to do when I hear the sound of rain like a drummer.” She then smiled at the little girl and said, “I believe God can speak to us in dreams, and I believe God spoke to you in a dream. You are a very brave and wise young girl, I am so proud of you for listening to our lesson about the Noah and the Ark on Sunday.”
Now, five days later, the little girl’s father stood looking across the devastation left by the storm. Shortly,  his wife came up from the basement followed by their two children. Then, the father turned and knelt down towards his six year old daughter and held her tightly and said, “Thank you, God, for keeping my family safe and thank you for my little girl who trusted in you.”
All around them where houses once stood, people were coming from their basements, into the sunlight. Everyone in the street had been saved because they believed the simple word from a six year old girl, and not one person had so much as a single scratch on their bodies. All of them were holding a piece of paper with a drawing on it, that the little girl had given them. The Bible says in Genesis that eight people who believed God through Noah were saved as they entered that Ark and now, eight families were saved because they believed the word of a six year old girl whom God had spoken to a dream. How this verse of Scripture rings true from Joel 2:28 (NIV), “I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.” There is no age restriction nor limitation for those whom God can use. God can talk to anyone in a vision or dream, so let your children dream dreams, let them see visions and let them prophesy and be used for the glory of God.
God bless you my friend, Matthew.


  1. Is this a true story?

    • This story came to me as I was reading through the book of Isaiah. It is a factional story that I wrote in about an hour. I hope you enjoyed it. God bless.

  2. God Bless You Matthew I enjoyed this story immensely! Happy Blessed Fourth 🙂 Gia

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