The mysterious Mayan calendar date of December 21, 2012 fast approaches. Before it arrives, I’d like to share some very brief descriptions of visions I’ve had over the past 19 months. The good stuff.
My daughter and I are on an airplane. Everyone is asleep in their seats and covered with a warm blanket. I’m acting as a “flight attendant,” going up and down the aisles and making sure the passengers are comfortable.
The airplane lands, which stirs my daughter from her sleep. She turns to me and asks, “Dad, did we make it?” I tell her, “Go look out a window and see.”
Pouring through all the cabin windows is a bright, dewy, golden light.
Hundreds and hundreds of lightworkers are sitting at a table that stretches from horizon to horizon. Everyone is dressed in gowns, just like in the Harry Potter movies. There’s food, drink and the entire crowd is engaged in talking and laughing.
Just like on any typical morning, I get up to start my day, go into the garage and open the big door. Instead of the usual scenery I see a brilliantly golden world.
I’m flying through the air with a small group of people. We’re levitating and approach the idle operations at the Atlanta airport. I’m acting like a tour guide, showing them the discarded airliners and the huge concrete complex. Everyone is amazed that humans used to fly around in aluminum cylinders.
On a pleasant, quiet hillside, I’m hovering over a group of people, maybe forty or fifty in the congregation. The landscape is dotted with these groups and each of them has a similar person hovering over them. I think I’m teaching.
Our small group is gathered at a sumptuous table, everyone dressed in magnificent clothing, talking and laughing, when a lion enters and proceeds to lick Lida’s face like it’s a giant lollipop. Everyone bellows in laughter.
I’m levitating above my subdivision when I notice that all of the paved roads have been replaced with thick, soft grass turf. All of the highways, streets and parking lots have been converted into green spaces, lush with grass.
I’m levitating again, this time in my back yard but my house is gone. In its place, I’ve dug a living space into the hillside with five open doorways, like simple arches. I’m living in Terra, not on her. The area in front of the doorways is flat with manicured grass and two small fish ponds with a bench seat in between them.
In many visions, I’ve spent time with different women. For some reason, I always have a smile on my face when these visions are over.
A beautiful, green hillside is inlaid with wide, marble steps that lead down into a flat, grassy area. In the middle of this open space is a door. Nothing in front of it, nothing behind it, nothing propping it up that can be seen.
Our small group is gathered at the foot of the door and each of us starts to file through it, one at a time.