A Dream, and a Warning

While I do not see myself as a prophet or a translator for how God speaks, there are times when God speaks and somehow you just know it is a warning or a sign of things to come.  It’s happened before, over a year ago I woke in the early hours of the morning and felt the need to write down what God was trying to tell me (you can read it here). 

Well, I woke this morning an hour before I wanted to, and could not get the dream that i was having out of my head.  So, with urgency I wrote it down and can still see it as if it was just now happening…


I was sitting with a group of close friends, some new, others i’ve known for years.  We were in a round room, no doors, onlylarge windows that spread from the floor to cealing.  there was a horseshoe shaped counter that we stood around and sat at (and on).  My mother was there also (at least her voice was). 

Outside, we had a view of an Airport and I specifically remember it being in D.C., but it wasnt Dullas or Reagon.  Hundreds of planes were darting on and off the runways, withing feet of one another.  They all were going either North to South or South to North (closer to us and away from us, never from side to side). 

Well, something happened to one of them and it spiraled down and crashed into the ground behind a row of trees.  The resulting fireball (orange with a tint of green) lifted into the sky and struk another plane, which in turn veered sharply and rolled upside down and crashed onto the far side of a field of soccer fields.  Three more planes came down as well. 

As soon as the first plane slammed into the ground, I went running out of the room and down the bleachers, to the protests of my mothers voice which told me that it was not safe, would never be safe.  From the bleachers I was joined by some of the guys from school (the Cockins family and a number of others). 

We ran down the aluminum steps and across the soccer fields as the remaining three planes slammed into the ground.  As they hit, there were huge explosions, sending shockwaves across the grass, but yet they contained no flames nor smoke.  Debris was sent flying through the air, landing in front and around us.  The sky was clear and blue. 

Three of the planes carried passengers while the fourth was a small cargo plane filled with black liquid.  As we got closer to the crashsite, voices (including my moms) started yelling warnings that we should stay back, it might explode and burst into flames at any moment.  As we rounded a large chunk of a wing, we saw a girl standing there, covered head to toe in the black liquid of teh cargo plane.  She yelled at us taht she would be fine, it was just syrup.  She pointed at the remaining planes that had smashed into an old church in ruins, yelling ‘Help Them!’

Micah and I ran into the church, past/through two small fires that billowed black smoke and through the burnt and broken wooden doors.  Inside, we stopped and stared at the hundreds, if not thousands of people who sat in the pews and airline seating, their blank faces stairing up at us emotionless and unmoving. 

The right half of the church was missing, from the windows up the the peak of the roof, rotted and burned out.  Rays of light pierced through onto the alter where we stood.  For a second, everything froze, Micah standing on my right and my brother, Ryan to my left. 

Finally the silence was broken as we yelled our warning, that they were in danger and had to get out quicky.  The orderly (as if getting communion) stood and filed out of their seating and walked out the doors on the side of the alter, without saying a word. 

My mothers voice told us ‘good job,’ now get out before everything explodes.  But I knew there were more people trapped inside.  So Istarted to go through the burned out shell of the church, embers still burning and ash crumbling beneath our feet.  I went down one hallway, then climbed a fallen rafter up to the second floor. 

Ryan, my brother, helped me up, then attatched a safty harness to me.  Instead of attatching the rope to the harness he told me to hold onto it.  I traveled down another hallway and entered what was left of a room, the broken and burned hole in the wall revealed the scene of the crash site. 

People stumblied about.  Fires burned. Smoke billowed up inot a clear blue sky.  As I leaned out to get a better look, the floor gave out beneath me. 


At this point, I woke.  I am still asking myself what all this means.  Is it a warning?  Or a sign of things to come?  Is it a vision of where God is calling me? 

I had more specific questions, like:  Why did my mothers voice sound urgent, calling me away from where i was needed?  Why did I run towards the chaos, not away from it?  Why did the church have its front doors behind the Altar and why did the people exit out the sides? 

In time, I may come to understand these visions. Perhaps not.  Only time and God can tell. 

God Bless and PEACE


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