It was about a year or so after I was born-again. It was another of what is called a vivid dream. I have many of them, most not able to be typed, but this one was.
I found myself inside of a store, but the racks and shelves were ransacked. I was in chains and in a line. In front of me and behind were others, they all wore a grey jumper. I looked down and found myself to be wearing the same.
Several half-naked people that were mostly tattooed and pierced were directing us. One stood upon the top of the shelves shout and laughing as he lashed out with a whip. As it snapped, I heard him say:
“Where is your God now? Why doesn’t He come and get you?” He said things like this repeatedly as he herded the line toward the back of the store. Soon after a twelve year old boy, tattooed as the others, came running down one of the hallways made by the shelves. He stopped, as he laughed and held up by the hair the head of a woman and all those that were herding those in chains roared with laughter.
Once we reached our goal, I saw a line of cots set against the back wall and we those chained together were placed into these cots. After a time one by one the cots to my left were emptied, then it was my time. They made me get up and walk through a door at the back of the store. All went black.
And I saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and judgment was given unto them: and I saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the word of God, and which had not worshiped the beast, neither his image, neither had received his mark upon their foreheads, or in their hands; and they lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years.
Special note: I had this dream in the late 1980s. At that time tattoos had not become as prevalent as they are today. In addition, I had never heard of any other type of piercing then the ear
I am forced today to do something that I have not wanted to do. I take no pride or pleasure in what I am about to type. But my hand is being forced by those that believe I write these postings for my self-glorification, which is the furthest thing from the truth for I know I am in no way perfect or near perfect, but I will stick only to my faith and how it came to me as best I can.
Now I know I have mentioned events in my past, but I told them in a way to help those reading to identify with me so they could see the truth in what I was trying to tell them, and that is all it was meant to do. I accepted Jesus into my life when I was twenty-five, but I did not become born-again until June 25, 1986 when I felt the Holy Spirit pour into me. On that day I spoke in tongues, and from time to time I have since then. For the next two years as I poured through the Bible and learned more and more about faith I was given dreams by God (Acts 2:17). Some of these dreams made it into the book I wrote because of them most I did not. Some I have posted here in this blog. Many were meant solely for me to grow in my faith and so I will never share them. Others like knowing a full month before it was made public that Jimmy Swaggart was committing adultery I tried to tell others but fell upon deaf ears.
From about the early nineties I entered in the time of my faith that I feel many slip into. It is neither an improvement in your faith or a step away. It is this type of faith that I call the grey zone you are neither hot nor cold for God. Those that are called lukewarm. It is a faith that I feel most fall into and are not fully aware they have. It is these that I seek to speak to more than any other person for they are mentioned within the book of Revelation and Jesus said it is these that he would spew from his mouth. It is these that think they shall be taken in the Rapture, but shall instead find themselves still here upon this earth. It is a place I knew I was in and for all I know still may be, for only Jesus can answer that question at this time.
Then 2013 happened, my year of Job, my soon to be ex-wife had allowed my apartment to become that of a hoarders. I begged and pleaded for her to address it, but she refused, and since I was working full time was unable to address on my own, because once I did clean, I would find a mess twice as large replacing it the next day. Then she was arrested for shoplifting. Two days later, I was evicted from my apartment. Two week later the management of the apartment made it impossible for me to move any of my personal property out so I lost all of my personal possessions and items of importance like photo albums were forever lost to me. During the entire year, one tribulation after another took place until I finally placed everything before God and throw myself upon His mercy.
It was through this year of tribulation that I learned how selfish I truly was. Even though I was nowhere near as selfish as I had been before I came to be born-again. It was through these trials that I learned that all must go to God. That all else comes before me. God first, family second, the world third and then just maybe me. I was given a burden on my heart to start posting first in Facebook and then finally in this blog. Why? So that I can cause others to think about where they stand with God. About if they are being selfish. If they are willing to understand that it is God and His Son Jesus that we owe our very existence too. Since there have been many times throughout history that it was through God that humans still walk upon this planet this very day. It was through God that the nation of the United States even exists and that the way it was structured exists.
I can go no further with this post.
I have loved the mountains since I was small. My father worked for a big corporation, but one of those guys that got transferred a lot. The thing is I think he took jobs that no one else would take so it would allow him to rise up the corporate chain more quickly.
The thing is it allowed me to spend my informative years in the west. I know from photo albums that I went through the Dakotas. I think I remember seeing Mount Rushmore. I know I saw mountains. Some in the distance, some up close. Sometimes even standing upon them.
I remember going to Little Big Horn and all I saw was rolling hills. I barely recollect the river at Great Falls, but I do remember the home we lived in. It was in a new suburb then. I also recall the winter and opening the front door and seeing snow all the way to the top of it due to being blown against the house. It was still very deep, my head scarcely allowed me to see over it has my older brother pushed his way out ahead of me as I followed him.
The house in Billings was older. There I got stunk by bees a lot. One thing I did enjoy was watching the planes take off from the airport which was atop a plateau next to the city. I have never truly been able to return to the west for a long period of time since I grew up. It is one of those things I truly regret.
The last time was in the west I was on I-40. It was summer and it was hot. One thing that amazed me though was where sections of the interstate either in Arizona or New Mexico that were actually build upon lava flows. It is something that people never even think twice about, but it was totally fascinating to me.
But back to the mountains. My best memories of mountains were in Salt Lake. Once again my father purchased a home in a new subdivision. The mountains were right there. Every day they were there. I loved those mountains. I would walk to school and church looking at them. They were beautiful. I would play in the field behind that house. It even had a sand dune in part of it. I learned to understand why they said Indians would bury people in ant hills. A few yard from my backyard I came upon a huge colony. It had to be a good yard in diameter. It was a fascinating and exciting time. I can honestly say I was happy. The happiest I have ever been.
I know I can never recapture those days ever again. I do wish to at the very least try to revisit some of those memories as I make new memories. Memories I know I will carry with me throughout all my live as I have carried those memories of my childhood.
There are things that just stick with you throughout a life. You can forget friends you once cherished. You can forget some places you have been. There are times though when something just glues itself to your memories. Something that is minor to other that are with you, but to you it becomes a building block on your personality.
One of these blocks for me was on a trip to grandma’s. Many of us had trips to a grand parent or parents. Then many of us have not had that opportunity, or their grandparents live close enough that within a few minutes your are there.
That was not how it was for me. Mine meant traveling for a couple of days. Traveling form the high plains of Montana to the lowlands of the Missouri River. Traveling through Montana, Wyoming, Nebraska and Kansas.
On one of these trips is when my memory was set, and the building block was formed. It is funny I do not remember how old I was exactly, but I must have been about six. It was a cloudy grey day that I am certain. The grasses of the prairie were yellow upon the rolling hills that surround the interstate we were traveling on. Back then seventy-five was the speed limit. For all I know it may have returned to the limit, since several states have ended the need to go fifty-five.
I was looking out the window setting behind my father who was driving, and as I did, I saw them. A herd of Pronghorn Antelope, they crested a hill and curved in over it and then started to run parallel with the highway. I do not know how long they did, but it felt like forever that they did this. To be honest it was most likely nearly two minutes. To watch these animals running has fast as our car and at the same time running up and then down the hills mesmerized me. Then they arced away from the road cresting one more hill and they were gone. I remember looking back trying to still see them, but they were gone.
Yet here I am writing this, and sharing it. They are here, and yet it has been a life time since they were here. It had made it where I love to travel upon the road. A goal I plan to pursue once I retire. A clock I am watching nearly weekly. In time, it will be daily that I watch this clock. Then I will be free to wonder the highways once again and look upon the beauties this nation has to offer. It is something I cannot wait to share.