Dream On: Chapter 3 Ocean Dreams
Chapter 3 OCEAN DREAMS
My dreams about the ocean were always a warning.
I remember my first ocean dream. I was 5 years old. I stood on the deck of the Beuker’s Beach house. The ocean was swelling past it’s boundaries and coming across the street to wash the house away. I held up my little hand at the water and said, “STOP” and it did. It was just a dream, but it made me feel like I might be able to actually do that some day.
Then the ocean dreams started of the people in our ward gathering for a ward activity on the beach and suddenly the clear blue sea became black and dangerous and heaved upon the shore, washing everyone away with startled cries. I rushed to my Suburban with my children pushing them inside and slamming the doors. The waters pulled at my car as I started the engine and the flood rose around up to the door handles sucking us out to sea. The path to the exit road was under water.
The high road was up above the boulders of the sea wall. As I felt the car being pulled out to sea I suddenly became so determined I shouted “over my dead body” and floored it. The engine roared as I WILLED the suburban forward. It miraculously drove over the boulders and suddenly I was on the high road looking down. The sea looked totally blue and harmless from there….but the ward was gone.
I had that one several times, other variations of it too. Sometimes I’m with my family at the beach and we’re playing in the waves and suddenly I see “The Black Wave” coming and it’s too late to run. Sometimes I woke up with fright, but over time I learned that if I take my kids and dive under the wave it rolls past and we escape and I see more in the dream. Or, if we swim with it, the wave actually lifts us up and washes us up to higher ground. Each time I had a black wave dream, something in real life would happen that devastated our family or caused huge turmoil.
Over the decades these dreams troubled and intrigued me. What did they mean? What is happening or going to happen?
A “Peace Forum” was announced in our county. Ephraim and I drove to the local outdoor amphitheater at the junior college. Local Christian groups were gathering together at the government’s request. We were going to do a presentation to support our cause of religious freedom. I brought Ephraim to support the cause.
As we entered the outdoor arena/campus, thousands of people were moving towards the central meeting place. It was cool and exciting to see so many like minded people. Suddenly, I saw several young adults move out into the crowd dressed in black. They were escorting people into classrooms. As the doors shut I heard screams and the sound of people being punched and slapped. I realized this whole thing was a sham and a trap, but it was not fully sprung.
I grabbed Ephraim’s hand and shouted, “Dang we forgot our lunches!” Ephraim played along. We went back the way we came, like salmon swimming upstream. We smiled and apologized and talked about “lunches in the car!” as we pushed and slid between the gaps of the hordes of people coming in. I got to the entrance and the young adults in black were slowly walking the gates shut. I stopped them as we passed through and said, “hold on, I have to get something from our car. We’ll be right back! Hold that gate.” They did. We went out to the huge parking lot and got in the Suburban and drove to the kiosk with the guard rail. “We left something at home, we’ll be right back” the two guys looked at each other and said, “OK” and lifted the bar, and we left with no intention of coming back. I felt guilty knowing thousands of people were going to be captured, tortured, or killed and we weren’t. I felt sick inside.
These people all vanished. The next time a “Peace Forum” was announced, I encouraged others to not go but they looked upon me narrowly and told me they were surprised that I would not be a proponent of peace. Ephraim and I remained alive and unincarcerated in the FEMA camps.
Reg had been taken for a mission in Adam Ondi Ahman. My mission with Ephraim was to be on the outside to help those who still hadn’t chosen to go to Zion and were good people survive the “crazy”. Food was scarce, violence was the norm, those who hadn’t been carted off to the camps (Christian and non-Christian) were all banding together to barter and share what they had because we refused to be part of the global economy.
Anyone who still believed in the constitution was “tolerated’ but shut out of the global economy. We were not allowed to have bank accounts nor credit cards. Cash had been eliminated and yet, some places DID still take cash in remote areas. They were so small and few that the new government let them be.
In those early days we had run away and hide in the remote places, sneaking back to the house once in a while to get food storage or check on the garden. Once some drug cartel renegades blocked our road out of the hills and were going to kill us. I raised my arm to the square and commanded them in the name of Jesus to remember why they had come to this earth. I repeated it calmly and with power three times and suddenly they just lowered their guns and waved us on.. We were able to restock our supplies and discovered that since the town had been emptied and pick over we were able to safely go back to the house. That’s when Reg made the portal into our room. Surprise! My portal, finally came.
For decades I had been begging the Lord to give me one so I could pop in to see my kids any time I wanted. None of them lived in California. I was getting ready to retire and knew I’d be too poor to travel. I pleaded with God. Reg even started praying, but to no avail. Sometimes Emmet would check in with me asking, “Grandma have you got that portal yet?” I was so disappointed to tell him..”not yet, still trying”. Then, at a general conference, the prophet announced that 144 thousand would be chosen to help rescue people all over the world and bring them to Zion. Reg was chosen to be one of those people. I was slightly disappointed to say the least. He was going to serve a mission without me.
Ministering Angels taught Reg how to set up portals. Now he could pop in and visit me and Ephraim and set them up for me to be able to go where I needed to.. My married kids had escaped to Zion with their families so they were safe and how I LONGED to be permanently with them. I was grateful for our portal visits!
When the Anti-Christ arrived with his sweet talk and miracles, I was in the Stake Young Women’s presidency. Our goal was to bring our youth to Jesus Christ and did everything in our power to this end. It seemed that the more we urged the youth, the more some just seemed to discount the faith and rush head long towards Satan’s siren call and willingly jump into his pit!
Half of the stake followed the antichrist when he came. He was so cool, stood for peace, and healed people and controlled the weather and made everything so easy and good. HOW could he possibly be a “bad” guy. Who cares if he says he’s a god. Couldn’t this be a mystery? It was frightening and exhausting as our little band of faithful followers of Christ tried to stay inside the safety of our covenants and urge all else to do the same. They were embarrassed of us. Then the Savior did come with his armies. At that moment they were not prepared to be caught up. The bridegroom had come and the foolish virgins were left wishing their lamps had more oil.
I had dreamed that too…decades ago when I was single and in college. I was attending an endowment session in the Provo Temple. As we waited for the session to start, 3 people in red and black hooded robes came in from the side of the veil and started putting candles and golden dishes on the altar. The other patrons just looked at each other in surprise and said nothing. I looked around for someone in charge to come and fix it and no one came so I stood up and said, “Stop, we don’t do that stuff here.” The three hooded figures gathered up their items and scuttled away.
We continued to sit in the cushioned seats of the endowment room waiting for the REAL ceremony to begin but none of the temple workers could be seen. I finally got up and left the room thinking it was too weird and I’d come back another time. The hallway was uncustomarily dim and I tried pushing on the light switches but they didn’t work.
As I went down the hall towards the exit it got darker and darker and began to feel very evil. I got scared and walked back toward the endowment room. I looked out the window in the hall and saw my family’s big white 15 passenger van down below. They were all happily getting in to go on a picnic and I thought to myself, “HOW COME they get to just frolick and I have to stay here where it’s scary and dark and weird? I’m not in charge here. I have no authority. Where are the temple workers?! I went back into the endowment room and was shocked to see the hooded people were back with more people and setting up the altar with their candles and other items again. One of them came up to me and said, “Are you the one who told those people to leave?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Wow, you are very strong. You have a powerful voice.” It made me feel creepy and I excused myself to once again leave the room to look for someone in charge.
The darkness in the hall was worse. I turned to go back into the room and to my horror it had enlarged and become HUGE like the BYU Marriott Center. Down on the stage, near the altar, was a heavy metal band. The music was LOUD and chaotic. Tens of thousands of youth filled the room. They were all clapping and cheering and “singing” along.
There were so many people still coming in that I was almost trampled and shoved down those steep cement stairs. I put my arm to the square and found that when I did that, no one could actually touch me. They could press closely but not touch me and I was safe. I kept my arm up and began calling out to everyone around me.. “Don’t go! Everyone leave! This place is not safe” But they ignored me. I looked around the enormous cavernous arena and in the distance I could see 6 to 8 little glowing humans, with their arms also to the square, staring at me. I distinctly felt that THEY were watching me. If I stayed they would stay and call the youth to stop and go back, If I left they would also leave.
I became very frustrated and angry. I was NOT in charge of anything, I did not know what was going on except that it shouldn’t be going on. Who was I that people should look to me? I had no authority and yet I felt VERY compelled to stay and observe and encourage people to leave until the real people in charge came. I felt useless, no one was listening to me.
Then some adults/parents came in behind me. They slid into the bleacher seats beside where I was standing. I felt SO relieved. At least some help had arrived. I knew these guys would make their kids go home. I quickly joined them in the bleacher seats saying, “I’m so glad you guys are here!”
To my utter dismay, they began chanting and clapping and joining in, “ROCK ON!” My head swiveled on my neck as I looked back and forth at the adults. I leapt to my feet and went back to the steep staircase aisle. These guys were not going to be helping anyone.
The room was sweltering, the noise and fevered pitch of the band were mind numbing. Then the lead guitarist signaled to the band to keep playing and he went to the mic and shouted “Come on down! Come to me!” The floor opened up in front of the raised stage creating a huge hole.
The youth went crazy with cheers and bolted from their seats and began diving into that hole. “STOP!!! STOP!! I cried” but no one heeded. Then I heard screams, muffled horrifying screams pleading for help as the youth at the bottom of the hole were being crushed by the others diving in on top of them. I shouted even more earnestly for them to STOP, screaming that people were being killed! But the cheering masses pushed past me. I kept my arm to the square to save my own life and not be carried away by the crowd to that hole which was now so full of kids I could see them stacked 14 and 15 people deep on top of each other above the floor level and still the crowds rushed to join them.
Then I saw the whole pile of bodies shift as a unit. I wasn’t sure what I was witnessing. Then with a sick twisting in my stomach I realized that the hole was SWALLOWING the youth. Everytime it “gulped” more would disappear and there was more room on the top for the crazed youth to dive in. The screams of the children below the stack became desperate and yet the others kept rushing to dive in blocking anyone from escape. I renewed my efforts to stop them from running towards it. Then the man on the mic looked up at me and put the mic down. He left the stage and began climbing the stairs to where I stood with my arm to the square.
“Oh, you’re the one who caused my people to leave the first time.” he smiled in a charming and approving way. “You are very powerful”
He was so handsome, I liked feeling approved of by him. He was so good looking I began to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. As he neared me he smiled. In my peripheral vision I saw my right arm starting to lower and sag…and suddenly I knew exactly what was going on. I SHOT my arm back strong and square and glared at him.
“I know who you are, you are Satan!”
He switched tactics and took on a disdained scolding attitude as he chided, “Come on, it’s just music and we’re having fun. Why don’t you lighten up?”
“You are Satan” I stated matter of factly, “You can not be trusted” Then he said, “You haven’t seen anything yet.” and he looked down and put his hands up to his face and began pulling the skin at his hairline and pulled his face right off and the MONSTROUS face behind that charming mask paralyzed me with TERROR.
I started screaming at the top of my lungs “JESUS! JESUS! JESUS! COME NOW! SAVE US!!!!” I screamed and screamed as the monster laughed but he could not touch me.
After some time, I heard the big metal doors at the top of the arena burst open. I looked and I saw hundreds and hundreds of elderly temple workers dressed in white with their arms and hands in a sacred posture. They were GLOWING so bright as they flowed down the steps towards the stage that the arena was filled with their light. A cool, sweet breeze flowed with them, it smelled sweet and fresh and Satan screamed and vanished. I collapsed to the ground sobbing and sobbing, “WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?! When I pulled myself up from my heap on the floor, the arena was gone, it was just the clean, medium sized, good old endowment room.
I woke up stiff and wet from sweat and before my eyes for three days I saw words hanging in front of me as I walked around on campus, ate, and talked to other people.
“Praying is not enough. You have to work this hard and be this exhausted if you are going to help me.”
I wondered what in the world this meant. Forty years later, I found out.
I remember my first ocean dream. I was 5 years old. I stood on the deck of the Beuker’s Beach house. The ocean was swelling past it’s boundaries and coming across the street to wash the house away. I held up my little hand at the water and said, “STOP” and it did. It was just a dream, but it made me feel like I might be able to actually do that some day.
Then the ocean dreams started of the people in our ward gathering for a ward activity on the beach and suddenly the clear blue sea became black and dangerous and heaved upon the shore, washing everyone away with startled cries. I rushed to my Suburban with my children pushing them inside and slamming the doors. The waters pulled at my car as I started the engine and the flood rose around up to the door handles sucking us out to sea. The path to the exit road was under water.
I had that one several times, other variations of it too. Sometimes I’m with my family at the beach and we’re playing in the waves and suddenly I see “The Black Wave” coming and it’s too late to run. Sometimes I woke up with fright, but over time I learned that if I take my kids and dive under the wave it rolls past and we escape and I see more in the dream. Or, if we swim with it, the wave actually lifts us up and washes us up to higher ground. Each time I had a black wave dream, something in real life would happen that devastated our family or caused huge turmoil.
Over the decades these dreams troubled and intrigued me. What did they mean? What is happening or going to happen?
A “Peace Forum” was announced in our county. Ephraim and I drove to the local outdoor amphitheater at the junior college. Local Christian groups were gathering together at the government’s request. We were going to do a presentation to support our cause of religious freedom. I brought Ephraim to support the cause.
As we entered the outdoor arena/campus, thousands of people were moving towards the central meeting place. It was cool and exciting to see so many like minded people. Suddenly, I saw several young adults move out into the crowd dressed in black. They were escorting people into classrooms. As the doors shut I heard screams and the sound of people being punched and slapped. I realized this whole thing was a sham and a trap, but it was not fully sprung.
I grabbed Ephraim’s hand and shouted, “Dang we forgot our lunches!” Ephraim played along. We went back the way we came, like salmon swimming upstream. We smiled and apologized and talked about “lunches in the car!” as we pushed and slid between the gaps of the hordes of people coming in. I got to the entrance and the young adults in black were slowly walking the gates shut. I stopped them as we passed through and said, “hold on, I have to get something from our car. We’ll be right back! Hold that gate.” They did. We went out to the huge parking lot and got in the Suburban and drove to the kiosk with the guard rail. “We left something at home, we’ll be right back” the two guys looked at each other and said, “OK” and lifted the bar, and we left with no intention of coming back. I felt guilty knowing thousands of people were going to be captured, tortured, or killed and we weren’t. I felt sick inside.
These people all vanished. The next time a “Peace Forum” was announced, I encouraged others to not go but they looked upon me narrowly and told me they were surprised that I would not be a proponent of peace. Ephraim and I remained alive and unincarcerated in the FEMA camps.
Reg had been taken for a mission in Adam Ondi Ahman. My mission with Ephraim was to be on the outside to help those who still hadn’t chosen to go to Zion and were good people survive the “crazy”. Food was scarce, violence was the norm, those who hadn’t been carted off to the camps (Christian and non-Christian) were all banding together to barter and share what they had because we refused to be part of the global economy.
Anyone who still believed in the constitution was “tolerated’ but shut out of the global economy. We were not allowed to have bank accounts nor credit cards. Cash had been eliminated and yet, some places DID still take cash in remote areas. They were so small and few that the new government let them be.
In those early days we had run away and hide in the remote places, sneaking back to the house once in a while to get food storage or check on the garden. Once some drug cartel renegades blocked our road out of the hills and were going to kill us. I raised my arm to the square and commanded them in the name of Jesus to remember why they had come to this earth. I repeated it calmly and with power three times and suddenly they just lowered their guns and waved us on.. We were able to restock our supplies and discovered that since the town had been emptied and pick over we were able to safely go back to the house. That’s when Reg made the portal into our room. Surprise! My portal, finally came.
For decades I had been begging the Lord to give me one so I could pop in to see my kids any time I wanted. None of them lived in California. I was getting ready to retire and knew I’d be too poor to travel. I pleaded with God. Reg even started praying, but to no avail. Sometimes Emmet would check in with me asking, “Grandma have you got that portal yet?” I was so disappointed to tell him..”not yet, still trying”. Then, at a general conference, the prophet announced that 144 thousand would be chosen to help rescue people all over the world and bring them to Zion. Reg was chosen to be one of those people. I was slightly disappointed to say the least. He was going to serve a mission without me.
Ministering Angels taught Reg how to set up portals. Now he could pop in and visit me and Ephraim and set them up for me to be able to go where I needed to.. My married kids had escaped to Zion with their families so they were safe and how I LONGED to be permanently with them. I was grateful for our portal visits!
When the Anti-Christ arrived with his sweet talk and miracles, I was in the Stake Young Women’s presidency. Our goal was to bring our youth to Jesus Christ and did everything in our power to this end. It seemed that the more we urged the youth, the more some just seemed to discount the faith and rush head long towards Satan’s siren call and willingly jump into his pit!
Half of the stake followed the antichrist when he came. He was so cool, stood for peace, and healed people and controlled the weather and made everything so easy and good. HOW could he possibly be a “bad” guy. Who cares if he says he’s a god. Couldn’t this be a mystery? It was frightening and exhausting as our little band of faithful followers of Christ tried to stay inside the safety of our covenants and urge all else to do the same. They were embarrassed of us. Then the Savior did come with his armies. At that moment they were not prepared to be caught up. The bridegroom had come and the foolish virgins were left wishing their lamps had more oil.
I had dreamed that too…decades ago when I was single and in college. I was attending an endowment session in the Provo Temple. As we waited for the session to start, 3 people in red and black hooded robes came in from the side of the veil and started putting candles and golden dishes on the altar. The other patrons just looked at each other in surprise and said nothing. I looked around for someone in charge to come and fix it and no one came so I stood up and said, “Stop, we don’t do that stuff here.” The three hooded figures gathered up their items and scuttled away.
We continued to sit in the cushioned seats of the endowment room waiting for the REAL ceremony to begin but none of the temple workers could be seen. I finally got up and left the room thinking it was too weird and I’d come back another time. The hallway was uncustomarily dim and I tried pushing on the light switches but they didn’t work.
As I went down the hall towards the exit it got darker and darker and began to feel very evil. I got scared and walked back toward the endowment room. I looked out the window in the hall and saw my family’s big white 15 passenger van down below. They were all happily getting in to go on a picnic and I thought to myself, “HOW COME they get to just frolick and I have to stay here where it’s scary and dark and weird? I’m not in charge here. I have no authority. Where are the temple workers?! I went back into the endowment room and was shocked to see the hooded people were back with more people and setting up the altar with their candles and other items again. One of them came up to me and said, “Are you the one who told those people to leave?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Wow, you are very strong. You have a powerful voice.” It made me feel creepy and I excused myself to once again leave the room to look for someone in charge.
The darkness in the hall was worse. I turned to go back into the room and to my horror it had enlarged and become HUGE like the BYU Marriott Center. Down on the stage, near the altar, was a heavy metal band. The music was LOUD and chaotic. Tens of thousands of youth filled the room. They were all clapping and cheering and “singing” along.
There were so many people still coming in that I was almost trampled and shoved down those steep cement stairs. I put my arm to the square and found that when I did that, no one could actually touch me. They could press closely but not touch me and I was safe. I kept my arm up and began calling out to everyone around me.. “Don’t go! Everyone leave! This place is not safe” But they ignored me. I looked around the enormous cavernous arena and in the distance I could see 6 to 8 little glowing humans, with their arms also to the square, staring at me. I distinctly felt that THEY were watching me. If I stayed they would stay and call the youth to stop and go back, If I left they would also leave.
I became very frustrated and angry. I was NOT in charge of anything, I did not know what was going on except that it shouldn’t be going on. Who was I that people should look to me? I had no authority and yet I felt VERY compelled to stay and observe and encourage people to leave until the real people in charge came. I felt useless, no one was listening to me.
Then some adults/parents came in behind me. They slid into the bleacher seats beside where I was standing. I felt SO relieved. At least some help had arrived. I knew these guys would make their kids go home. I quickly joined them in the bleacher seats saying, “I’m so glad you guys are here!”
To my utter dismay, they began chanting and clapping and joining in, “ROCK ON!” My head swiveled on my neck as I looked back and forth at the adults. I leapt to my feet and went back to the steep staircase aisle. These guys were not going to be helping anyone.
The room was sweltering, the noise and fevered pitch of the band were mind numbing. Then the lead guitarist signaled to the band to keep playing and he went to the mic and shouted “Come on down! Come to me!” The floor opened up in front of the raised stage creating a huge hole.
The youth went crazy with cheers and bolted from their seats and began diving into that hole. “STOP!!! STOP!! I cried” but no one heeded. Then I heard screams, muffled horrifying screams pleading for help as the youth at the bottom of the hole were being crushed by the others diving in on top of them. I shouted even more earnestly for them to STOP, screaming that people were being killed! But the cheering masses pushed past me. I kept my arm to the square to save my own life and not be carried away by the crowd to that hole which was now so full of kids I could see them stacked 14 and 15 people deep on top of each other above the floor level and still the crowds rushed to join them.
Then I saw the whole pile of bodies shift as a unit. I wasn’t sure what I was witnessing. Then with a sick twisting in my stomach I realized that the hole was SWALLOWING the youth. Everytime it “gulped” more would disappear and there was more room on the top for the crazed youth to dive in. The screams of the children below the stack became desperate and yet the others kept rushing to dive in blocking anyone from escape. I renewed my efforts to stop them from running towards it. Then the man on the mic looked up at me and put the mic down. He left the stage and began climbing the stairs to where I stood with my arm to the square.
“Oh, you’re the one who caused my people to leave the first time.” he smiled in a charming and approving way. “You are very powerful”
He was so handsome, I liked feeling approved of by him. He was so good looking I began to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. As he neared me he smiled. In my peripheral vision I saw my right arm starting to lower and sag…and suddenly I knew exactly what was going on. I SHOT my arm back strong and square and glared at him.
“I know who you are, you are Satan!”
He switched tactics and took on a disdained scolding attitude as he chided, “Come on, it’s just music and we’re having fun. Why don’t you lighten up?”
“You are Satan” I stated matter of factly, “You can not be trusted” Then he said, “You haven’t seen anything yet.” and he looked down and put his hands up to his face and began pulling the skin at his hairline and pulled his face right off and the MONSTROUS face behind that charming mask paralyzed me with TERROR.
I started screaming at the top of my lungs “JESUS! JESUS! JESUS! COME NOW! SAVE US!!!!” I screamed and screamed as the monster laughed but he could not touch me.
After some time, I heard the big metal doors at the top of the arena burst open. I looked and I saw hundreds and hundreds of elderly temple workers dressed in white with their arms and hands in a sacred posture. They were GLOWING so bright as they flowed down the steps towards the stage that the arena was filled with their light. A cool, sweet breeze flowed with them, it smelled sweet and fresh and Satan screamed and vanished. I collapsed to the ground sobbing and sobbing, “WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?! When I pulled myself up from my heap on the floor, the arena was gone, it was just the clean, medium sized, good old endowment room.
I woke up stiff and wet from sweat and before my eyes for three days I saw words hanging in front of me as I walked around on campus, ate, and talked to other people.
“Praying is not enough. You have to work this hard and be this exhausted if you are going to help me.”
I wondered what in the world this meant. Forty years later, I found out.
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