I looked into a room through a wide glass window, like something you might see at a police station for a lineup; a one-way mirror where I could see in, but they could not see out. Along the far wall were young women engaged in prostitution and sexually immoral behavior. Their appearance looked disgusting to me. Then one of the women was standing beside me. She tried to entice me into her behavior, but I was repulsed in my spirit. I began to feel compassion for her condition, held her by the wrist, and spoke about the redeeming power of Jesus. She was listening and beginning to receive the words I was giving her.

I was with a man I work for. He is of great authority, kind in spirit, and very hard-working. He showed me a piece of property on a mountain upon which he would build a dream home, a place to retire. I looked up at the mountain, and it was called Mount Rainier, the same volcanic mountain situated southeast of Seattle, Washington. But the mountain looked different. The lower portion looked like any other mountain, but the top third was built of geometric cubes.

I was standing in what appeared to be a county fairground. In front of me was a long wooden building with wooden barn doors where they held farm animals. There were Christian men and women inside, and those of the enemy, tares as we know them in the Bible. The Christians conversed closely with the enemy, standing in small groups and courting them into a dangerous relationship. I rapidly tossed hand grenades into the building, guiding them toward where the enemy stood. The Christians close to the enemy were being blown up with them.

I saw a young brown-haired and brown-eyed woman committing sexual acts with a man. I then saw the face of a different middle eastern man mocking her verbally in Arabic and English and mocking her in writing, saying that he held complete control of the woman and had bound her into sexual slavery. The woman was also in a relationship with a ministerial friend who was unaware of her condition.

I walked into what appeared to be an art gallery that was part of an art school and a larger artist community. I was admiring the unique pieces of modern-looking paintings and sculptures. I moved through several rooms into a large mezzanine. At the far end of this long space was a younger man sitting at an artist work station. He had darker hair and eyes and a muscular, stocky build. There were several jewelry pieces on his face and ears, and he may have had several tattoos on his arms. He looked rough in appearance, but his heart was loving and tender. I felt a brotherly love towards him. He was a Christian, and the Lord had sent him to this place to reach the lost.

I was walking through a wooded area somewhere in Virginia. It was winter, and all the trees were grey and barren. Suddenly, I noticed bright patches of pink flowers in the forest. I looked closely at these clusters of pink flowering cherry blossoms and several other flower types. I wondered how these trees could be flowering in the middle of winter. Something was wrong. It felt like it was tied to global warming or an environmental issue. Our natural world was off, and trees showed the effect of a world in deterioration. The trees may have also been showing a prophetic picture of life coming out of the dead, pockets of God’s people blooming amid a dead and barren landscape.