I’ve had several prophetic dreams in my life, and I still remember each one vividly, either in part or in whole. The first was many years ago (1970s, I think) and involved the believers of my town being called individually by the Holy Spirit, families instructed to gather in a central location to be collected by the Lord, as the time had come for the final global warfare.
It was incredibly thought-provoking, especially when I learned over the next few days that similar dreams were being reported by many other Christians across the world, one even dreamed by a sister-in-law. The scenarios were different but the interpretations were the same. An increase in evangelism resulted, at least for a time.
A very different end-time dream occurred some years following that one, involving only me, myself, being instantly transported to a recessed doorway half-way up a mountainside on the other side of the world. I went inside to find a fully furnished and comfortable living space with other people already there, only one of which I knew (Diane B.). Down a central hallway were other rooms, including a large nursery full of cribs — no babies as yet, but completely ready to receive any small children that might arrive. Other spaces were workrooms, conference rooms, laboratories, some full of busy people, some mostly empty.
What is happening? Why am I here? I was wondering, when the Holy Spirit spoke a simple sentence to me. “Armageddon is beginning.” This was one of the mountains of the Lord, he explained, just one of many on every continent, fully equipped and furnished. Prepared and waiting for believers from around the world who would be transported here at intervals. Here they would live and work until the conflict was resolved.
I woke up, completely awake and aware in an instant. I wrote down every detail of that dream, not wanting to forget any of it. As if I could… I remember it all very, very well to this day.
A third dream was only a few years ago. That one was so wonderful I wanted to dream it again, over and over. It was a warm weather evening and I was teaching a class at Poynor Adult Education Center. Suddenly my feet left the floor as I was bodily lifted and moved to a tall, open window, then through the window and upwards as though drawn by a magnet. Amazed, I watched tree tops fall away below me. This isn’t real, I was thinking inside the dream, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just the opposite!
I found myself leaning backwards, encased in a small pod-like vehicle with a glass window at eye level. It was sort of like being inside a small, remote controlled airplane, protected from the cold temperatures at high elevations. I could see lights far below and knew that I was moving quite fast, in a westward direction I thought. The angle of travel gradually changed from mostly vertical to horizontal.
The little craft stopped in the yard of a house somewhere in a small town, many miles away from Florence. A couple of nice people greeted me, seeming to expect my visit. One of them said “You’ll need this” and handed me a soft, thick blanket.
Once again enfolded in this little cocoon-like craft and rising high into the air as before, my journey continued on.
Even knowing as I slept that this was a dream, I was fascinated by it all. After a few moments we were so far up that I could no longer see the lights of cities below. The soft, warm blanket wrapped around me, I fell asleep inside the dream.
Suddenly “awake” again, I found I had been moved from my wonderful space-age aircraft to the passenger seat of an ordinary automobile. It was being driven down a main street in a town not unlike Florence, but certainly not Florence. In the driver’s seat was someone who looked like an ordinary businessman, but instinctively I knew he was an angel.
He was talking to someone else that I didn’t see, apparently continuing a conversation. “Is she up for this?” he was asking. “Are you sure she’s right for this job?” “Oh yes,” was the answer. “She’s ready.”
At that point I woke up for real, and remembered every scene, every moment of this remarkable, wonderful dream. I wrote it all down, and for some time I didn’t share it with anyone, eventually telling only Tim.
I didn’t doubt that this dream had a meaning for me in the physical, real world. Change. Change was coming. Spiritual change, too, but physical, material change was coming.
And it did, over the course of the next number of months and years following that dream. Tim died. And during the next year I was transported across the planet several times, traveling in huge jet planes (not tiny pod-like ones), and I had a job to do. Interviews with people from many other countries, sharing their lives with me as I shared mine with them.
When asked to go, I wasn’t really surprised. I felt not fearful, but prepared for that experience — ready for that dramatic change in my life, which proved to be both a physical and spiritual adventure.
Now I have had another of those remarkable dreams. Not one I want to repeat this time, however. It was the early morning hours of July 7, 2012, before daylight.
Standing in a small meeting room, I was speaking to several men sitting around. They were dressed in business suits and looked sort of like insurance salesmen. Or FBI agents. I was telling them that the signs were there, for people who were looking and listening. Warning signs. The signs were there, as well as information on how to protect yourself and your loved ones.
These signs were scattered around the whole world, on internet sites, blogs, news items and scientific articles, print newspapers and magazines, in many places and from many seemingly unrelated sources. For those who were paying attention, I told them, the signs were obvious and recognizable.
War is coming, and it’s coming to our country, I said.
A couple of the men glanced at each other, as if to say, we know this — but how does she know it? It didn’t seem to worry them that war was coming; it only seemed to puzzle them that I knew it.
I suddenly realized that few people in the general population were paying attention, and although these men knew what was ahead for the country, they weren’t notifying the population. They probably had no plans to do so. That’s when I woke up.
I lay there and thought about it for a few minutes. War is coming, the dream told me. And it may be soon. What kind of war? Invasion? Revolution? Riots? Small pockets of violence? Wide outbreaks? I don’t know, but the warning signs are indeed out there, and the body of Christ needs to pay attention.