It was January in California, the sun was shining. A beautiful blue sky with white fluffy clouds hung above us. I was walking along a dirt road with my nephew, Colton. Not just any gravel road, this was some kind of a secret military complex. No buildings to speak of, just square structures. And they weren’t arbitrarily placed on the flat dusty floor. They were neatly positioned in columns and rows like a checkerboard. The box shaped slats appeared to be held up by strong posts to resemble concrete tables. In the sky an ethereal parade of flying objects floated down to earth: a dump truck, a big long boat, and other vehicles. The various modes of transportation were breathtaking to watch as they glided down nose first. We watched in awe as the first in line prepared for its landing. The dump truck touched the ground and without hesitating blasted straight up like a rocket launching from its base. But something was wrong. Whether it was a faulty takeoff or a deliberate maneuver, the dump truck was coming back down for a crash landing. “Run!” was the only sound I could hear, even though my heart pounded heavily to a staccato beat. Everything slowed down to a turtle’s crawl as dust particles floated in front of me. I turned to Colton, grabbed his hand and sprinted toward the square structures for cover. We didn’t have a lot of time before the massive chunk of metal would inevitably pummel the earth. In this flat, desert, environment, there wasn’t a lot of places to hide from the impending impact. I could feel the urgency to take cover and dove behind one of the concrete tables. “Cover your mouth!” I screamed to Colton. He and I lay down, shielded our mouths with cupped hands and scrunched our eyes shut to the incoming debris. I felt the wave of toxins rush past us like an atomic bomb. It was excruciating to breathe. Struggling to refill my lungs, I opened my eyes to assess the cause. It was dark yet my face was open to the air, fresh air. I had awakened in my own bedroom, just a nightmare, but definitely no ordinary one. It was so vivid and seemed so real. I had to find out what it meant. Delve into my psyche and find out its twisted state.
I found a dream group and shared every last detail. “Maybe the boat gliding down was symbolic of your ship coming in,” suggested one person. “Perhaps your nephew means you need to hold on to love,” offered another. The facilitator thought the dump truck crashing to the ground could be seen as positive, a need to rid my life of all toxins, and the need to breathe. Their different perspectives seemed viable to me, until I received dire news seven months later.
I was informed that my nephew, Colton, had been diagnosed with Cancer of the stomach. I remembered my dream, the toxins, was that the cancer? The military complex, Colton worked with machinery in the army. The dump truck floating to earth, had he been poisoned while working for the army, or during basic training? As if to answer my questions, I received a text message on my iPhone that day from a complete stranger warning about toxic chemicals at a military post that was potentially cancer causing. Was this coincidence, a message from the spirit world, or just a wrong number? Without a means of proving any theory I had to leave it to coincidence, but not his healing.
I was a trained energy healer. I knew in my heart he could be healed. So I set off to work. I prayed and sent healing energy with the hope of a miracle. I told my closest friends and family to pray as well. As I focused on the healing intention, I heard on the TV, ‘God gives us miracles every day.’ I looked up immediately and right below that message the name – Colton, my nephew’s name. It was a news report from Colton, California. Could it be another coincidence? Or did this message come divinely through a celestial being?
The message seemed clear to me. An act of thaumaturgy was in play, but who was the miracle worker? God, Colton, me, my family, friends, the doctors? Or could it be that we were all thaumaturges in his healing? All instruments of God’s power accessible within us.
Coincidence or miracle, a couple of months later, Colton was cancer free.
Caroline has had numerous prophetic dreams of people who are close to her as well as complete strangers. She uses her intuitive abilities to write. Sometimes it comes in lightening speed, and other times it hits her like a ton of bricks. Either way it's always an adventure.