I was given a pot of freshly cooked barley. It was done, and I was getting ready to pour the barley into another vessel for storage. When I poured it out, it was stiff in the form of the original pot. Its shape did not allow it to fit neatly into the storage vessel, so I broke it down. I broke the large clump into smaller pieces. I noticed these smaller pieces varied in size and shape, some evenly shaped like measuring cups and others irregular. I worked the barley, separating the individual grains until they filled the storage vessel uniformly. I had completed maybe ten percent of the sifting when I awoke from the dream.

I was riding my bike to meet up with a group of Christians. As I entered this stone building, I saw a sizeable group of men and women sitting at long rectangular tables to my left. They were talking, laughing, and having a great time of fellowship together. To my right, I saw Jesus walking quickly towards a small door that was along the back side of the building. He was wearing a long reddish-purple-colored robe and had a gold crown on his head and did not look at me or any other Christians.

I walked into a small congregation led by a Messianic pastor friend. A younger man with a beard was on the far-left side of the room, playing an electric guitar and leading worship. Next to him was another younger man playing a horned instrument. The music was powerful, and the twenty to thirty people in the room were all dancing. There was a row of chairs along the right wall. I sat down on one of the chairs and watched the people.

I was in several European countries, first the Netherlands and then Brussels near France. I spent some time in the region, staying in a house and visiting the cities. I met many people and eventually came upon a small group. I got my confidence to ask them two questions: “Have you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior, and if you died today, would you go to heaven?” An older woman in the group answered that she would go to hell. I asked the group if they wanted to be saved, and they agreed to pray the sinner’s prayer with me. The whole group accepted Christ. I also prayed they would be filled with the Holy Spirit. Their countenance lifted, and they walked away rejoicing.

I was preparing to go on a day hike with my family. I put on my hiking socks and shoes, and we drove away in our car. We headed south towards a national park and then turned onto a major interstate that was heading southwest. I recognized the number as Interstate 80. The highway was packed, four to five lanes across, with cars spaced awfully close together and moving very slowly, crawling along in an orderly progression.

In my spirit early one morning, I asked the Lord to allow me to descend into hell. I cannot fully explain why I wanted to go, except that I was in anguish over those who were there. I tried to save them. The Lord gave me permission and authority to enter. I blew the breath of the Holy Spirit out of my mouth, and a hole emerged in the earth. I blew a second and then a third time, and the hole penetrated hell. I saw my spirit leave my body and descend into the black hole. It was a long dark shaft, perfectly round.

My wife and I stood atop a hill overlooking a serene and lush rolling landscape; tall green grass covered the pasture, and beautiful dark green hardwood trees framed the meadow nearby. There were dozens of sheep grazing on the hillside, and I could see a shepherd standing not far to our right. The sky was blue and calm, and it felt very peaceful.

I was with a childhood friend Jewish friend named Paul. He had two young children with him—a boy and a girl. I asked his children if they wanted to receive Christ. They said yes, and I placed my hands on their heads and prayed for them. They both felt and received the Holy Spirit and were saved. I then asked Paul the same question, and with some apprehension, he said yes. I noticed my mother standing directly behind him. She was yelling at both of us and denying my words to Paul. I placed my hands on his head and prayed into his right ear. Afterward, I asked him if he had received the Holy Spirit. He said he had felt something but could not hear the words that I had prayed.

I was with my son in Chico, California. It was a clear sunny day, and we walked down a street. Several blocks away behind me was a row of condominiums. I glanced back and saw about four or five cars suddenly lifted off the ground from behind the building and flung unto the back side of the roof. I stared in shock. I then heard powerful gusts of wind blowing from the southwest to the northeast. A church building covered with metal siding was about a block away in front of us. The wind blew toward the building, imploding and crumpling like an aluminum can. I knew people were inside and felt concerned and compassion for them.

I was standing in a spot with hard ground, like cement. There was what appeared to be a three-sided room with windows. I loosened the soil and dug five holes in a semi-circle curved outward from the open side of the room. The holes were to be planted with five trees. They were not significant, maybe eight to twelve inches in diameter.

I was with a friend in a local ministry. He invited me into his building and offered me a small locker to store things. My son sat at a small table with me, eating food. My friend handed me a pair of keys, and they were rusty but still opened the locker. I dipped the keys into a bowl containing a clear water solution. The keys became shiny and new.