For Tricia Mikkelsen

By way of introduction, may I tell you that this is the truest account of my own extraordinary and personal experience that I am able to render.

To begin:  Reasoning, following the careful study of God’s Word, that I, being a pitiful sinner, would most likely find it overwhelming to focus on both the necessity of avoiding my personal sin in the here and now, and giving attention to the magnificent scope of the future; I largely put away any emphasis on eschatology.  Were I not to do so, to my way of thinking, I would surely fail in the primarily important endeavor to pursue the near maddeningly elusive business of holiness.  However, I have  lovely friends in the fellowship who have found it not only challenging to study the things to come, but invigorating, as it further encourages their own faiths and thrills their souls and I’m delighted to tell you that while I’ve avoided such, I was not foolish enough to turn a deaf ear to their joy and have therefore been privileged to listen to many interesting briefings on the subject, and I did form a loose opinion of the end (or if you prefer, the beginning, or starting over, the second coming, etc.) as it did appear as a formidable part of the whole.

All of this is a preface to my decision to tell you of a possibly prophetic dream I experienced.  Because this dream appeared especially vivid and significant, I noted it in my journal, as I’ve had a habit of keeping a diary since becoming a Christian as a young woman.  (Now, it is another story, but I will tell you that many would not have my testimony as I give it because I walked an aisle and professed faith as a child then later believed I had been mistaken.   Again, knowing as I do that I am “chief of sinners,”  I had no more desire to continue in such argument then as now, as it was and is apparent to me that I had best be about the job of cooperating in the challenging process of my sanctification.) Also, as it was especially brilliant, I relayed this particular dream to my eldest son on the morning following its happening.  It was not customary for me to tell others of my dreams and certainly not for me to write of them.  Over the years, I believe I have written of only two- possibly three- and this is the one dream I have felt pressed to consider as a word for the future.

While I am accomplished at communication, my preferred manner of lending a hand to a fellow is that of listening skillfully and asking thoughtful questions, thereby trusting both the individual and God Himself with the conclusion, and I have never considered myself any kind of prophet.  Though I have wondered at the supernatural, I have known and preferred the greatest knowledge and power available to man which is found in devotion to God and to His Word, and ultimately culminates in wisdom.  I have actively sought for Him to reveal Himself to me by communion with His Holy Spirit made possible by the atoning blood of Jesus Christ; through His written Word, communion with the saints, and the evidence of His existence and will in the natural world.  I have had no occasion of which to remark that I have felt myself to possess some sort of psychic power.

These things recognized, let us move to the heart of the matter:  As related to my son, who was drawing close to his twelfth birthday that particular morning, this is how it transpired:  I was aware of myself cleaning an apartment on the upper level of a building.  The sublet was small and neat, sparsely furnished, reminding me of an economy hotel suite. There were large plate glass windows on one wall and the drapes were pulled revealing a view of the sky.  I knew that I had my little ones- Anna, Jonathan, and Alexander with me (Jaxon was there “in the secret place” though I am not sure I knew it and Madelyn was still only a thought in the mind of God.).  As I was on my knees busily completing a task, I felt someone staring at me and l looked up and toward the window, simultaneously I heard something startling and tremendously loud and realized that a plane had crashed into the end of the building where I labored.

Standing before the window and to the right was a stunningly attractive woman, very neatly groomed, in a chic dark business suit.  She had short, closely clipped, glossy black hair and fair skin.  Her hair was parted to one side.  I am not sure, I suppose oddly, of the color of her eyes, however her gaze was penetrating and her tone commanding.  As I looked to her, she gestured toward the scene outside the window and stated plainly, “This is how you can always know that a storm is coming.”

I turned my attention from her to what was to be seen through the looking glass; and there presented was a scene I can not yet find sufficient words to describe.  I tried once a few years past to paint the scene and could not nearly reproduce it, but yet I am no great artist.  The best I have been able to report is that it seemed as though,as noted in my journal, “the sun had exploded and was consuming the sky” (and I was aware of the occurrence being of an explosive nature).  There was a great deal of light, warm color, and possibly flame- all against an expanse of black (I wonder if I should be ashamed of having shared such a thing with my child and would not normally have done it, but a sense of urgency prevailed.).

Less than a week after relating the pressing dream to my son, and having nearly forgotten it amid the daily bustle of life in our home of many children, other creatures that come along with them, and a high volume of traffic, I answered the persistent alarm of our landline (in those days we still had one) and heard my husband, Lee, who is so consistently even tempered to my regular displays of terrific passion that I am continually vexed, with an uncharacteristic urgency ask me to immediately turn on the television.

Our phone was cordless and the TV located in our finished walk-out basement.  I hurried downstairs from the kitchen to where the children were gathered to begin school, and did as I was asked.  The children quietened in response to my evidently anxious mood,  and together we watched in shocked silence as a plane flew directly into one of our World Trade Towers located at One Financial Center, Wall Street in New York City, New York.  We watched aghast as the horrific events of what would quickly become etched in the memories of all Americans as 9/11, unfolded before us on live television.  Understandably, I temporarily forgot my dream until some time after when my son reminded me of it and of the odd coincidence.

It had been several years and a move to a new state before I revisited my old journals and was prompted to consider my dream, the message, and the incredible timing, once more.  As I sat with my old journal in my hands wondering anew at those days of upset and unrest, at the tumultuous state of the world and at the odd coucidence of my peculiar, pressing dream, I realized that I had included something else in the entry- the end.   In my dream, I eventually turned away from the compelling site in front of me and grabbed little people shouting for children to run along with me to where I had parked our over-sized green van.  It seemed to take an eternity to traverse what was truly a brief distance and I remember thinking that we might not make it in time.  In time for what? I clearly recall that as we drew closer to our vehicle, I noted that my two oldest children, Emily and Donald, were not with me as they had been cleaning a different apartment at the opposite end of the building.  I was disturbed at our being separated and awakened feeling agitated.

Until that day of rediscovery, I did not think to question GOD concerning the details.  Now, I immediately wondered why the sense of urgency related to the dream, that I had felt at the time, had suddenly returned as I sat with the book of my collected messy musings open in  my lap.  In His Presence, I wondered, and after a time, three things were made clear to me.  First, I knew that the storm was not the events of 9/11, but that the events of 9/11 were a precursor to the storm and second that the storm would involve the entire globe, and third that it would arrive prior to Anna leaving our family to begin a life of her own.

I soon reminded my family of my dream and shared fully my further thoughts regarding it.  I cautioned them not to tell anyone else what I had disclosed and one child rolled her eyes in exaggerated fashion, giggled and quickly exclaimed,  “Don’t worry, Mom!” The others nodded their agreement and their terrific contagious laughter enveloped me as well.  Can you blame me for being unwilling to risk being committed to an institution for those not-quite-right-in-the-head? Seriously, I was concerned that I may be obsessing a bit, but I was well assured that I was as sane as the next guy, and was, after some prayer, content to put it away and to rest in Jesus- until recently.

Only our youngest two children live at home with us now, as the others are pursuing higher education or working and living with a roommate or a sibling   Our oldest is a young widow with a son- our first grandchild, and our second child is  married.  My mother and I, along with the two still living at home, were at her river cabin this year, the week of March eighth, observing the first presidential address to the nation concerning the novel coronavirus since February the twenty-ninth.  My brother and his wife were with us there as we gathered around the television and heard our President suggest that no one go to work if he or she felt unwell and that schools should consider closing.  That night, I marveled at this new turn of events for a considerable time before sleep claimed my restless mind.  In the morning, as I was preparing to enjoy a cup of coffee with my mom on the spacious front porch overlooking the exquisitely beautiful river, my dream returned- slamming into my consciousness with a force akin to a plane crashing into a building, nearly knocking me sideways.  I reminded my mother of my dream.  Of further interest, when we returned to our home from the river, Anna was engaged to be married.

I am sharing with you, with my readers, now as I believe GOD is prompting me to do so and to trust Him with the outcome, as for my own journey in His Spirit, this experience, this dream and all that has surrounded it, encourages my faith and thrills my soul! But I do not profess anything beyond what I have told you.  I have no idea if the second coming of Christ will be tomorrow, or ten years from now, or ten thousand years from now, but this has been for me greater evidence of the reality that is His Existence and Truth, and of the fact that He truly loves His children and communicates with us still.

May God continually manifest Himself to you, to me, and to a world continually in need of His Presence through Jesus Christ Our Lord,

Amen.

Please see The Book of Acts, 2: 14-21

Copyright 5/1/2020.    L.L. Shelton,