Chapter II

"Behold, that dreamer cometh..."

The harsh reply I received from my first sharing of the vision with people of faith both shocked me and shattered my expectations of what the response would be among Christians. Up until then I expected believers would be excited, even thrilled to hear some detail of the coming great event.

The truth is there has not been much favorable response to the vision. I shared it with a few people who gave a little or no comment, but who managed to look at me strangely. I began from the onset to develop a faint understanding of Joseph's plight when he tried to share his dreams with his brethren. "Behold, that dreamer cometh."

Looking back on that time shortly after receiving the vision, I realize that I'm partly to blame for the reaction I encountered. I was a bit much. . . a bit arrogant, a bit prideful toward my assignment from heaven. For a fact I was pretty puffed up by the Lord selecting me to write such a truly marvelous thing.

I began to attend church on a somewhat regular basis. It wasn't that I wanted to go, but for some reason I felt I was being prodded from above to do so. The Church I first attended on a somewhat regular basis was a small country Methodist Church only a mile or so from my home.

Soon after I began going to church a scheduled revival week took place. The guest preacher came up from Jackson, the state capital, to conduct the services.

I really liked the preacher and his sermons. By midweek I felt comfortable enough with him that I invited him to my house. He accepted my invitation. I invited him for one reason - to discuss the vision that was almost burning a le in my heart. I sensed he would understand, and help me to understand what I had witnessed.

After a few minutes of small talk, I got to the point. I told him that the Lord had shown me something I would like to share with him.

He said, "OKay, sure. " With a nod of his head. He had such a pleasant expression on his face, I felt completely at easy as I recounted to him the vision in its entirety. At some point in telling the vision I noticed that his expression changed from pleasant to serious, or perhaps discomfort.

When I finished by telling him how the word Habakkuk 2:2 had formed inside my chest, and the confirming Psalm 97 by the priest, the preacher just stared and me.

When he finally spoke, I was stunned by his response. He immediately began to rationalize away the vision. I don't recall his words verbatim, but the one argument against the reality of the vision was the most obvious one, of course. "Since I was a writer and depended upon my imagination, I very possibly could have imagined it."

I shook my head. "No," I replied, "I didn't imagine it." I admit to having a vivid imagination, but not that vivid. At the time of the vision, I knew nothing about the Lord's return, and I didn't know the word Habakkuk existed.

Then he said to me, "Perhaps you were seeing your own death. "

Those words both shocked me, and scared the living daylights out of me. I wondered if he was right - had I seen my own death?

At that point I didn't want to discuss the vision anymore; not with him, or anyone else. His visit had been a big disappointment, and I was worse off for it. I was relieved when he left my home.

But was I ever disheartened. His words tormented me. . . "Perhaps you were seeing your own death." Over and over I thought about what he said. . . My imagination. . My death. I felt a real fright deep in my soul. What had I seen? What did the Lord want me to write? I was very sorry I had invited the preacher to my home. It had not gone at all as I expected it would.

After he left my home I fretted. Was the vision about my own death? Over the years I had developed a real and deep fear of dying. Now being told I had possibly seen my own death were words of horror to my ears. I fretted the remainder of the day. The Lord stood back and remained silent while I stewed. Inviting the preacher to my home had been my idea. I was so anxious for someone from God's side to say to me face to face, "Yes, the vision is from the Lord. What you saw and experienced is indeed from God."

I fell into deep despair before the Lord began to deal with me. He quickened questions to my mind for me to answer. Questions such as:

"How many whirlwinds were there?" My answer. "Too many to count. " "Were others caught up the same way, the same time?" My answer. "Yes, the clouds were full of others." "Did you see the destruction of earth?" My answer. "Yes, I saw it melting, on fire. " "Do you think your death could cause this?" Relief flooded me. "Of course not." My death would not cause every other believer to die with me, nor would my demise melt the earth. I just wasn't that important in God's plan of things to come.

I became angry toward the visiting preacher. If he didn't believe me, why didn't He just say so. Why did he try to make me think I was either nuts or dying. But, the truth is the preacher did something far more harmful. He planted the first deep seeds of doubt in my soul. Up until his visit I had been absolutely sure of what I had seen and what I should do. Writing it seemed a simple enough task.

I was truly baffled by the reactions of those with whom I shared the vision. They all seemed to want to attack me.

I decided that I must be doing something wrong and perhaps I needed to wait a while before I shared the vision with anyone else. So, I began to reconcentrate my efforts on the completion of the four book contract.

I wanted to give up my secular writing, but I found to do so extremely difficult. How would I live? For years I had depended on advances and royalties and I liked the money. I couldn't imagine going back to nursing for I had grown very happy with the profession in general, and my own role in particular.

To continue writing was a decision I made, even if it wasn't the "right" thing to do. I instructed my agent to secure me another contract.

A few days passed before I received a great shock. My agent called to inform me that she could not obtain a new contract for me with the publisher of eighteen of my twenty-one books. However, she told me not to worry for there were other publishers who would be glad to get the benefit of my talent.

But, not a single publisher she contacted on my behalf would have anything to do with me. My writing career took an unexpected nosedive, then crashed before my eyes. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. A fog began to descend on me, and from the fall of 1985 until the spring of 1986, I was beside myself.

While my carnal side went wild with worry, my spiritual side knew that the Lord himself had shut the door on my writing career. For months he had dealt with me about it, and when I refused to give it up voluntarily, He arranged to have me give it up involuntarily. As the saying goes, I was left high and dry.

My debts continued to mount as my income dwindled to near zero. "Jesus, Lord, what am I to do?" or "Lord, what's going on here?" were among most spoken prayers.

The light faded from of my eyes and the awesome sense of His presence dimmed. My entire life was turning upside down. I had to have an income. In an act of desperation, I applied to go to Saudi Arabia as a registered nurse. It was there I could make the most money in the shortest period of time. My application obviously was ignored because I never received any kind of reply.

Depression and anxiety began to dominate me. Depressed because I couldn't get a handle on what was happening to me; anxious because I had no idea what lay ahead for me. Day and night I cried out to the Lord, but I could not get an answer from Him telling me what He wanted me to do. I hardly thought of the vision at all as I wondered what I had done to make the Lord so mad at me.

It so happened that just before my career collapse, in the late summer of 1985 I had become part of the congregation of a small non-denominational church with the membership of around 50. I had become close friends with the pastor and his family, especially his older sister, a paraplegic named Josephine. I suppose she wasn't a true paraplegic in the real sense of the word, but she was wheelchair-bound due to the various cancer surgeries, heart surgeries and various other disorders, including stroke. In spite of her many physical limitations and disabilities, she possessed a great confidence in the goodness of the Lord. I found it extremely difficult to understand her level of joy.

At that time I owned a mini-van so I would drive her and her wheelchair to and from church.

Although I was in a great emotional upheaval about my career, I felt blessed to have my health. I could come and go at will, I could travel wherever I desired, I could swim, walk, run. . . I had my health.

Surely everything would come out alright, after all, the Lord Himself had assigned me a task to do.

After a while, I shared the vision with Josephine and she believed me. Straight out she believed me. . . No question about it. Then one day while we were discussing the Lord's return, she stated bluntly that she would not live to see it.

I don't know why her matter-of-fact attitude angered me, but - it did. "Yes you will," I insisted. "It's soon." She shook her head and said, "No, Jo, I won't see it."

I wanted to shake her. Where was her faith? I began to wonder about her. How could a child of God be as debilitated as she was anyway. Why was she crippled, with half of her insides gone, and a plastic tube carrying her very heart blood? What was going on?

A lot of the members of our church were sickly and weak. . . And crippled. One member, a woman, had lost both of her arms in a fire. She had learned to do her work with her feet.

I was troubled by what I saw. It was so very contrary to the popular doctrine that God wanted all His children to be healthy, wealthy and wise, with most emphasis on 'Wealthy'. Apparently that doctrine had not reached the in-firmed, afflicted members of our little church. I could not help but be puzzled by the conflict of what I was hearing on television, and what I was seeing with my own eyes. Somewhere, something was amiss.

I had not been a member of the church more than a few months, when the pastor came to me with an offer that my pride gobbled up immediately. He asked me to become the adult Sunday school teacher. What a feather in my cap! Christ Jesus had only been my Lord less than two years and already he promoted me to teach - and not children, but adults. (Praise God, he spared the children.)

What a loose cannon I was. I had my own opinion on everything and I voiced it freely. Most Sundays I did not follow the Sunday school lesson at all. I would stand before the class for forty-five minutes and either preach, or talk on a topic totally unrelated to the week's lesson. Having become a self-professed expert on God, I eagerly shared my expertise with the adults of the church.

Strangely enough, the Lord in His great mercy would sometimes drop His anointing on me and I would be scripturally and spiritually sound in what was taught. But most Sundays I winged it off the top of my head. I loved the attention; I loved being the head of a class. The members of the class undoubtedly received a special gift of grace from God in order to put up with me week after week.

Although the Lord was silent to me about my career future, He was not silent to me about other things. I recall one day while I was praying at home, the Lord showed me something that made me forget the subject of my prayer.

The description of what he showed me is as follows:

Above my head it was as if heaven opened and I saw a golden chair, a straight-backed chair with a rounded seat. Across the seat of that chair lay a pair of arms. The arms were not connected to anyone; they were perfectly formed, beautiful arms. I knew as I looked upon those arms that they would fit perfectly to the lady in my church who had lost her arms in the fire.

Those arms were there for the taking and I knew it. I whispered, "Lord, why can't we get them down here?"

He answered me with plain words and to the point. He said: "Because no one down there has the needed faith to come up and get them. "

That's what it would take. Faith. Not just everyday faith, but the gift of faith. The faith it comes from God and returns to God. The faith that does the will of God.

As I stared at that pair of arms across the seat of the golden chair, I sensed in my spirit that there were all kinds of body part set aside in Heaven's warehouse. But few, since the time of Christ Jesus's earthly ministry have been granted the gift of faith which enabled them to access that warehouse.

The vision faded and I remember myself whispering, "Oh God, give me that faith." I sat on the floor a long time after the vision faded and God's presence lifted. If only the Lord would give me the faith, I would get into that warehouse and everybody in my church would be healed, be made completely whole. Perhaps everybody in the world could be. My friend Josephine could be healed and then she would live to see the return of Jesus.

To be honest, I had no idea of exactly what kind of prayer I just whispered. And if I had known how the Lord answers those kind of prayers, I can't truthfully say whether a not I would have whispered those words. For a long time that day I moved about in an ignorant kind of dreamy bliss.

Obviously the Lord had shown me the arms for a reason. I would just have to wait until I understood that reason. I shared the vision with my pastor the following Sunday. He had followed me to my car and was talking to me through my opened window. I remember his reaction. "Yes," he nodded. "That's from the Lord. "

Several months later, as Josephine and I were going into the church on a stormy windy night, she fell onto the concrete pavement and suffered a fractured hip. At the time she fell I had no idea she had injured herself and as we helped her up from the pavement I remember I laughed. To this very day I have no idea why I laughed and the fact that I did troubled me then and still troubles me. Her fall certainly wasn't funny, therefore I cannot explain why I laughed. That fall resulted in surgery and thus the beginning of her final earthly battle.

But I wouldn't accept that she wouldn't be alive to see the Lord's return. After I saw those arms on the chair and heaven I was more convinced than ever that the Lord had new body parts for Josephine.

Some time later while watching television, I saw a Christian brother who had lost his left arm to cancer. As I watch the interview a strange thing happened. I could see the arm there at his side, the one that had been amputated; not his physical arm but his spiritual arm. It was right where it should be, but it was naked, missing were the flesh and blood and bone. It was then I realized that the physical could be amputated, but not the spiritual. It remained.

Then, at some point near the close of the interview, I heard the young man say, "I had a dream that was so real. . . In it I had both my arms again." (or words to that effect.) The program was secular and the woman conducting the interview gave him a questioning look, but she did not inquire further into the dream.

However, I reacted. I jumped to my feet, jumping and dancing, "Yes! Yes!" I lifted my eyes toward heaven and sounded, "Yes, yes!" I believed his dream. I believed the Lord of glory had given it to him. I believed then, and I believe now that his dream will indeed come true. Even as I write these words I am more convinced than ever, that the day will surely come when amputees will be made whole, when all manner of diseases will be healed, when all types of captives will be set free.

XXXXX

But, in 1985, I had no idea of what my future in the Lord would hold for me. My writing career had ended but God still ruled the universe. In spite of my worry, depression and tears, I nevertheless felt that somehow the Lord would direct my future.

I didn't know what to do. Writing was still in the forefront of my plans, so I began to check "Christian" Publishing. That didn't work out.

I seriously considered writing my testimony, and of course, include the vision of the Lord's return in it. That, too, did not workout mainly because the Lord spoke to me in words I clearly understood. He said:

"Don't merchandise me. "

I took these words as serious as the plague, so I immediately discarded any notion of a career in "Christian" writing. I knew the moment I heard that admonition that the vision would never be sold; that it was not for sale. The Lord would make a way for those he intended to read it to obtain it for that purpose. Freely I had received it and freely I was to give it and I would not worry about how to give it. That I committed totally to the Lord.

For months I struggled with one idea after another concerning my immediate future, trying to figure out how to make enough money to stay afloat. The turmoil in my soul only heightened. What was I to do? Dear God in heaven, what was I to do?

I had responsibilities I could no longer meet. Bill collectors began to ring my phone day and night. Never had I known such humiliation. My financial free-fall continued its downward spiral until I found myself face to face with bankruptcy.

And of course, there's always someone who comes with a scripture to quote. The one given me during this period of turmoil and heartbreak was: "The wicked borrow and pay not again. "

What a blessing brethren can be in a crisis.

I did not believe I would really be forced into bankruptcy. The Lord Jesus knew me. He knew that when I had money I had been generous. I gave to charities, sent money to TV ministries, began to tithe once I became a church member. Because I considered myself faithful, I truly believed God would bail me out before it was too late.

Looking back on those days I know that my motives in giving were not pure. I wanted to impress the Lord with my generosity, but the truth is that I never gave for the joy of giving. It was just something I felt I should do, something I needed to do. Also, I wanted the Lord to take note of my obedience.

By early 1986 crunch time had arrived. I existed in a near stupor as I waited on a word from the Lord. Then one day in a most unexpected way, the clear word from the Lord came.

It was in the afternoon and I had knelt on my living room floor, crying out to the Lord, "Jesus, Lord, help me!" . . . That was about all I could pray. . . "Help Lord. . . Help!"

He heard me at answered me with a powerful encounter.

Now, with some of the encounters with the Lord, I've been unable to say with certainty that I was awake, or asleep, or somewhere in between. This one was different. I was wide awake, kneeling on my living room floor.

As I knelt, the living room faded from sight as a huge door appeared. Suddenly, it swung open and what I saw took my breath. Beyond the door was a street made of gold. Hardly able to believe my eyes I stared in absolute awe. I knew I was seeing a part of heaven beyond that door. . . The street of Gold. And it wasn't like any gold I had ever seen. It was so pure it was transparent; I could see through it.

With my eyes fixed on that street I whispered, "Lord, am I about to die?" Why else would he be showing me His street of Gold.

He answered me:

"No--that's the fourth door. There are three doors before it. "

As he spoke the door of the golden street closed, then disappeared. In its place appeared three more doors, all closed, lined up side by side.

The first door opened and much to my surprise I saw myself back in the work force working as a nurse. I was amazed and shocked.

That first door was only open a few minutes before it closed and the second one swung open. As the second door opened, a huge flame of fire burst outward and "swooshed" above my head. It startled me to such an extent I fell backward to the floor. What I could see beyond the opening in that second door was nothing but flames of fire.

I yelled out, "Jesus, is that hell?"

He did not answer. Rather, as I watched, he closed the second door. Sensing relief from a sight that had nearly scared me to death, I raised myself to my elbows and watched the third door open. The fear left me when I look beyond that door to see a huge pasture full of people. I saw myself again in that door mingling with those people. I even saw the clothes I wore as I walked in that pasture, white pants and a blue top.

I knew I was seeing a move of God - a revival of sorts - or perhaps the harvest. It was very peaceful and beautiful. I was still admiring the view when the third door closed. Then all three doors faded away and my living room returned.

My first thought was: "Heaven is the fourth door." Christ Jesus had said that it was the fourth door, that there were three doors before it, so heaven definitely was the fourth door. We were four doors from glory or four doors to glory. Either way, the Lord had given me a timetable of sorts without giving the time. All I knew for certain was that Heaven was the fourth door.

After considering all the doors for a moment, I settled my attention on the first one. I knew what I had to do. The Lord at shown me that I would return to nursing. I had no desire to do so, but if the Lord wanted me to go back to my old career, I would do it. He knew what was best for me.

But, I was too far gone for a job as a nurse to save me from bankruptcy court. After years of living so high on the hog and building a mountain of debt, I had a face the fact that the hog was gone, but the mountain loomed. One of most humiliating days of my life found me in federal court declaring to the world that I was not only broke, but also, unable to pay my debts.

I sat in a packed courtroom that day. I positioned my well-dressed body beside and among the down and out of the region, still thinking in my mind that I was different from them. As I scanned the court room my eyes fastened on an elderly couple seated several rows ahead of me. The aged man was dressed in a clean starched overalls. His white haired wife dressed in plain dress, sat close to him clutching her hands. I knew by looking that illnesses that taken their finances. A sadness began to rise in my soul. They were old and sick and broke. What would happen to them? "Lord, have mercy," I said silently.

Stupidity, rebellion and sin had brought me to that day, so I had no excuse before God, or man. I spent more than I made. It was as simple as that.

I had considered not filing bankruptcy once I became employed again as a nurse. I could eventually pay the debts on a nurses' salary, but it would take a long, long time. I probably would have taken that road if I had not had a dream which advised me to do otherwise.

In the dream I saw a large lake of swirling black water. Overhead a large bird flew and in its beak it held a sign with the single word: bankruptcy. I watched the bird fly over the water then suddenly dip and fly downward on a straight path toward the lake. It dove into the midst of the swirling black water and sank from sight along with the bankruptcy sign. The dream ended and I awoke.

I did not understand the dream. But, somehow I knew that I was to go through with the filing of bankruptcy in federal court. Still I vowed in my heart that when it was all over, I would pay the debts as I could. I owed them, and by the grace of God, I would someday, somehow, pay them all. I made that vow with no idea what lay in store for me as my future would unfold. I understood the first door, the Lord was telling me to get a job in nursing. However, that second door, the one of fire was a complete mystery to me. I didn't worry about its meaning because I supposed that when the Lord wanted me to know its meaning he would tell me.

I knew I was in his will. Shortly before I returned to the nursing profession, one night in prayer, the Lord spoke these words to me:

"I will make you supervisor of surgery."

Those words were unconditional. He had said: "I will." Therefore I was greatly puzzled when the Holy Spirit led me to work as E R nurse in a small town hospital, approximately 12 miles from my home. I began to wonder if I had heard the Lord correctly because the hospital did not have a surgery department.

Much to my surprise I enjoyed my work as an emergency room nurse. Although I had been away from nursing for six years, my skills came back quickly. I was happy and content with both my work and with my co-workers.

Then approximately six months after beginning work, the hospital administrator came to me and said that the board had hired a surgeon, and that they were going to open the operating rooms and he asked me if I would be the supervisor.

My first thought was to say "No, I'm happy where I am," but the Lord's words "I will make you supervisor of surgery" rose up in my heart. I agreed to become the supervisor, a position which began in January of 1987.

I marveled at this turn of events and at how the Lord keeps his word. Opening a surgery department came as a surprise to everyone - even me. I had doubted that I had heard the Lord correctly on this matter, especially when I went to work in the ER of a hospital which did not have a surgery department.

I learned by these events that the Lord keeping his word was not dependent on my faith, nor was it hindered by my doubts. An "I will" from the Lord is only dependent upon himself for its fulfillment. The matter was done the moment the Lord said it, but the manifestation came almost a year later. I will write more on this in the following pages.

Everything was looking good for me after months of uncertainty and turmoil. I had a good job, I was happy. . . And God seemed to be on my side. Everything was looking very good indeed.