A. Sorescu writes: "I am thirteen years old and I've always loved to write. I love serving God with
my whole entire heart. When I was ten, I was called by God to tell others about
God. After that, I started getting more visions about the end times. This was
the first one I had. I am a straight A student who has skipped a
grade. I have already written my own 80,000 word novel and I am currently writing my
second novel. In my spare time, I read and ride my own horse nearly everyday. I
spend my time with God by talking to him daily. I hope my story brings you hope."
It was on March 21, 2011, during spring break when I was 12 years old, that I
had an incredible God-given vision:
When I woke up, I had woken up frightened from the noise of a loud trumpet that had sounded throughout my ears like a big bang. My heart was beating faster against my chest, and I pinched myself.
“What just happened?” I asked myself as I pushed my legs out of my bed and ran toward the wide window. I pushed through the green curtain to look outside. I blinked my eyes more than three times, it seemed like.
As I looked at my neighborhood through the window, I saw bright white angels -- beautiful creatures that were walking in mid-air, on the roofs of homes, or gathered up in the clouds. Some of the angels had wings; some didn’t. They were transparent, but for some reason I could see the figures so clearly and perfectly. Their elegant white robes would trail on the ground. Some were little children clinging on to taller angels.
“The rapture?” I thought to myself. “Could it be?” I was trembling and I felt so filthy and covered in sin. “Oh Lord, cleanse me of my unrighteousness!” I cried out.
I quickly pushed my way through my bedroom door, ran past the hallway, and entered the spacious master bedroom. I could see my mother was sleeping. She had the entire green quilt past her shoulders and she was fast asleep. I was upset by this scene since I thought they would have woken up to the trumpet sound I’d heard. Quickly I sat on the corner of the edge of my bed. I was so cold so I wrapped myself up in a soft white blanket.
As I was looking outside, I could see an unfinished home along with a mountain, whose trees were broken down for construction. I saw more angels there that were being directed by someone. But I didn’t exactly know who was directing this. There were many angels going to roof to roof and house to house. Beyond our backyard, I saw the house behind us. I saw a multitude of angels on that house. I could see two angels from that house who started to come slowly to my window. I began to pray silently, as I thought this must be my last minute on earth.
But the two angels went through the window, and they zoomed past me. I took a close look at them; they were so tall that they had to be bent over to run. They were taller than the ceiling. They were wearing white robes and their hands, face, and feet, were transparent, but outlined. I could see the figures so clearly.
And as they were running they went in slow motion but in just three seconds they were across the bed and beside my mother. “My mother is being raptured!” I wanted to scream out. I blinked my eyes three times in a row to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I pinched myself over and over again. This wasn’t a dream at all! I was trembling in fear and felt so unholy.
One angel stood beside my mother, while another one went inside of her. In the second that one angel disappeared in my mother, my mother twisted in her bed. The other angel was like my mom’s bodyguard, staying right beside her. I waved my hand. I so badly wanted to say, “Hello; how about me!”
Then all of a sudden, the angel who was in my mother came out and in three seconds it was on the other side of the bed. I made sure my hand went through the angels, and I felt nothing except a sense of awe. They exited the window, and they didn’t even have to walk in mid-air -- they just stood still together as they were flying to the hill where other angels were gathered.
The angels that were in the master-bedroom didn’t have wings, I noticed. I saw a few angels flying around that did, in fact, have wings. The wings were a bluish color and they were at the back, of course. These angels had their robes trailing on the floor. But what I did notice was that these angels didn’t have sandals or shoes on their feet.
They were the most beautiful, bright creatures! Their robes were bright and they were transparent and outlined. The colors of these angels are so hard to describe. The colors were different than earthly colors, and they were so beautiful.
Then my father opened the bathroom door. I was so scared and frightened that I quickly looked at him. My eyes were probably bulging out of my head.
“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” he exclaimed. “Why are you disturbing Mom? Why did you wake up so early? Go to your bedroom.”
I remember thinking, “I did in fact see something -- but not a ghost. It was an angel!” But I was so afraid of what he was going to say in response, so I said nothing. I kept my mouth shut and I remember just looking outside. I kept on looking outside the window. I was afraid to tell this to my father. I was afraid he would think of me as a crazy 12-year-old girl. I was afraid to tell him that I thought the “rapture” could be happening right then...
My dogs were barking like crazy downstairs. They were extremely hyper. My father’s brown eyes looked at me. He held his floss in one hand and a green toothbrush in another. “Go downstairs, and take care of the dogs.”
I was afraid to go. I had to be there in the last seconds if my mother were to be raptured. I had to watch her leave. But my father kept on insisting, so I went. I was shaking and crying. Why didn’t the angels look at me? Why didn’t they speak to me? I felt so unholy.
But then I realized that the angels had come to watch over and help our whole neighborhood. My mother was safe in their care, and so was I. Downstairs, I crawled down on the floor with my dogs and found myself singing praises to the Most High. I remember just randomly creating worship songs and singing them. My dogs were barking along too.
When I got to my grandma’s room, I saw that she was still sleeping. I sat down on her red couch and began to scribble in my diary. I remember writing this as I still have the notes, “Dear Anne, I’d woken up from a trumpet and I looked outside and I could see many angels crowded around. So I am very excited...”
My writing was all ugly because I was shaking so much. After a few hours, I had gone to the kitchen to start doing the dishes. I could still see angels being gathered around the forest area. I concentrated on doing my work. But I was just so excited so I started to sing songs of praise.
When I looked outside the kitchen window, I could see a man who didn’t have wings. His robe was trailing on the ground, and his arms were wide open. In his arms there lay a thick book that I could see; it was so bright and white. His robes were also bright. He was the one directing others. The book was wide open, and his head was covered. I did not see his face and he did not look at me. But his head was covered with something thick and white. I could see his outlines -- his arms and feet were transparent and outlined. He was the only one who wore old-fashioned types of sandals, like those from biblical times.
"Jesus, Christ of Nazareth," I whispered to myself, now pulling the curtain back. I quickly ran out to the balcony. I could see him again too. He was walking in midair and many angels were gathered around him. These angels were being sent out to various roofs around the neighborhood.
I came back to the kitchen. My tall 15-year-old brother was there. "Dennis?" I asked. "Do you see something over there outside?"
I pointed to where I saw the angels. "No, only trees," was his reply.
My eyes widened, “Nothing else?” I asked.
Three days later I told my mother, and she told my grandma and my whole family. Their response was, "Why didn’t you tell us earlier?"
My answer was, "I couldn’t because I was too scared."
I know God wanted me to write this vision out for other people, so I took the chance to do that.
(© 2012 A. Sorescu – All rights reserved. Written material may not be duplicated without permission.)