Dream warnings, again: Downtown Florence, SC

Dreaming, early Saturday morning, August 17, 2019

As the dream began, I found myself alone in my car attempting to drive west in the 200 block of Cheves Street, where the original McLeod Infirmary had previously stood. I don’t know where I had been but with muscles tensed and teeth gritted, I was determined to make it home somehow. It was daytime but hard to tell what time of day; the sky was cloudy and gray. Afternoon, perhaps.

The street was in very bad shape. The pavement was broken or missing in places with holes, some really deep, and chunks and piles of debris in the street and along the edges.

It looked like the street had been bombed. Or had there been an earthquake? I didn’t turn my head to look to either side of the street; simply controlling the car was requiring all my attention. Were any buildings still standing? I don’t know, but obviously a disaster had befallen downtown Florence.

Traffic was practically nil; only a few other vehicles were visible on the street. An oncoming car tried unsuccessfully to maneuver around a pile of rubble, then slowly reversed to do a careful U-turn. I saw no police, no firemen, no military presence, only myself and a few other civilians.

When I finally arrived at Irby Street I saw that Cheves Street ahead was completely blocked, only upended slabs of broken concrete and asphalt where the driving lanes should be. I was able to turn right, finding one lane relatively clear until I reached West Evans. I couldn’t tell if North Irby Street ahead would be safe to drive, but I needed to head west anyway.

I turned left onto Evans Street and slowly proceeded down that block, but on reaching Coit Street again found huge gaps and holes in the pavement. Only a narrow lane was clear enough for me to drive forward, but just past the City Center building the street basically ended. Nothing but a deep hole, piles of debris and a muddy ditch remained of the street. I would have to go back, find another way.

The dream ended there and I awoke, clearly recalling those horrifying details. Downtown Florence had been attacked. The protectors had failed.

During the seven years since the last dream warning (see link below) about the City of Florence, many intercessors have prayed for the spiritual protection of our city. Have we prayed for the right things? In the right way?





What happens when God prays?

2:55 AM, Saturday, September 1, 2012 I awoke from a vivid dream.

Holding a piece of classical sheet music I had come to practice, I was seated on a folding chair in a piano rehearsal hall. The only other person in the room was a man I didn’t know, perhaps waiting there to rehearse something himself.

I asked the man, “What happens when you pray?” He looked unsure how to answer, then  shrugged as if to say, “Nothing.”

I thought to myself, even if you don’t believe in God or in prayer, something changes inside you when you pray. Something does happen, to you yourself.

But instead of saying that, I then asked the man, “What happens when God prays?”

And suddenly I was wide awake. In an instant I knew this wasn’t just a dream and I wasn’t the one asking the question. God was asking the question, and he was asking it of me. He was waiting for me to answer.

I got up out of bed, thinking about that. What a remarkable concept. God prays?

Well. I had to give that idea some serious thought. If God prays, whatever he prays, he gets. The Trinity. God the Father. God the Son, Jesus Christ. God the Holy Spirit. Jesus prayed and still prays (he’s ever interceding for us). God the Holy Spirit makes intercession for us, too.

Who do they pray to? God the Father… the creator, the decider, the prayer answerer. The prayer inspirer.

Whatever prayer the Holy Spirit inspires, he gets. I’ve looked up a lot of those prayers in the scriptures over the last few days, especially John 17, but Paul’s prayers for believers, too. Scripture inspired by God, recording prayers desired and inspired by God. It is tremendously comforting to grasp that.

Dream warnings

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.

God is working…

In the desert…

I have a dream
Excerpt from the Arabian Peninsula Newsletter
Used with permission
October 2010

Much like the famous song “I have a dream,” many Arabs have a keen awareness of the supernatural world of dreams. To dream something must mean something. It is also not uncommon for God to use dreams and visions among Muslims to give them a glimpse of Himself and His love for them.

Dreams are seen as being in touch with the higher world, an avenue of the gods. When folks do dream, they tend to ponder on their meanings and seek interpretations from their religious leaders. The founder of Islam had many dreams too; therefore they are very open to receive messages from above too.

When asking a seeking Muslim if he ever had a dream of Jesus, the answer is most likely a resounding YES. Somehow God uses this unpredictable world of dreams to reveal Himself in a personal way to many, if they liked it or not. For some it is the jump start to a spiritual pilgrimage for the truth, for others it is a fleeting memory to be filed away for later reflection.

Thousands of ex-Muslims testified that dreams played a significant role in their decision making process before becoming a Christian. Since it is not possible to influence the content of dreams, they experience it as very significant pointers on their road to salvation.

“How did you know it was Jesus in your dream?” was one of the questions asked of the dreamers by their curious friends. Sometimes they just knew, while other times Jesus talked to them in an audible way. They usually could remember an overwhelming sense of love and light, and often woke up in tears of longing. Meeting Jesus just seemed to change a person’s life forever.

The dreams put them on a spiritual journey that often cause them to go the mosque more frequently, to study the Quran more fervently, and to follow their prayer rituals more earnestly. But soon they discovered that Jesus is not to be found in the mold they were used to.

A sense of longing for more of Jesus persisted until they finally find a Bible in a language they could understand. Reading more about what Jesus said and did was like taking a flying leap forward in their search for the truth. They discovered that He was so much more than they ever encountered in their dreams, causing a longing for more of Him.

Some folks even dreamt some of the parables that Jesus told, and then discovered them anew when they read the gospels. By the time they made a decision for Jesus, they had long since stopped going to the mosque and rather spent their time in reading the Bible. Fortunately the Bible is available in a variety of Arabic dialects and translations, but finding a hard copy seemed to be a difficult venture. None of the bookshops in the Gulf countries (except one or two) sold Bibles.

The availability of the internet caused many to Google their way to a place where they could download their own personal copy to read. In spite of many government efforts to block Christian websites, the persistent seeker would always be able to find what they were looking for. Some even discovered Arabic chat rooms where they can voice their questions to a real person, or could chat for hours with a fellow believer.

“One of the most significant TV programs I have seen was when a Saudi man phoned in to an Arabic Christian TV show broadcast from Lebanon, asking the presenter a lot of questions about Jesus. When the presenter offered to pray with him, he immediately accepted, and prayed word for word after him, inviting Jesus into his life.”

“It was like peeping into the throne room of God, seeing a man transformed over the digital channel by waves of God’s love, finding peace and a future of hope. I was in tears with them, sharing their joy and awe,” confessed a worker in the region.

Dreams, visions, the Holy Spirit is at work

This is exciting! The following news reports are from several mission updates I received by email April 17, 2008:

(1) Many reports have been received of Muslims who are finding Jesus through experiences of dreams and visions.

(2) Over the past few years Burma’s Buddhist monks and nuns have invited Christian missionaries to come share the gospel in the privacy of their monasteries. “It appears that the Holy Spirit had urged these monks and nuns to call our evangelists to come and share the gospel of hope and love.” Several thousand Buddhist monks have now been led to Christ as close to 80 percent of the monks in each of the monasteries prayed to receive Christ as Lord and Savior. [Adapted from MISSIONS INSIDER, 18 March ’08.]

In Acts 2:17 Peter quotes verses from Joel chapter 2, about visions, dreams, and the Holy Spirit being poured out – in the last days. Those days, and these days!