No Help Coming
June 17, 2021 4:36 PM
Dream received approximately six years ago.
The scene around me was one of utter desolation. I was in the water, off shore by perhaps a mile or a bit less. Looking back towards land, everything was shrouded in yellow-gray dust. I saw no surviving life forms. One tall broken palm tree gave perspective to the middle distance. Behind it, I saw the partial remains of a city, perhaps a medium sized one. There was no movement of any kind. The air was still and the sun did not penetrate it. No sound could be heard.
Sensing that I was the sole witness to something apocalyptic, I began to take stock of my surroundings. It seemed as though I was looking north or northwest and that the land area was either a southern or southeastern state in what was left of the United States.
I was on some type of flotation board or device and was not in any danger. The water was choppy but not seriously so. Looking up and out towards the sea, I saw a dark cast iron wall, composed of many-inches (feet?)-thick plates of a type used by battleships in the mid-20th century. Each “plate” was affixed to the others around it by use of a solid round-headed bolt that had no slot for any type of tool to turn it. The wall was several hundred feet high. A short distance behind it, an identical wall matched the first one.
An unseen Hand lifted me up to a height of perhaps a thousand feet or so. Up close, the double wall proved to be impregnable. Overhead, behind the double wall, the clouds swirled with an inky darkness that would frighten the most experienced sailor while the sea churned with large waves and a cross-sea . Yet as the clouds and waves neared land and the leading edge of that almighty wall, they softened into a routine dullness, one which I associated with average summer beach weather.
One thing stood out above all else: no help was coming. No help could or would reach us. God Himself had sealed off America such that aid and comfort would not lessen the impact of whatever judgment had befallen that particular locale.
Of this I am certain: America’s allies either will refuse to honor their treaty commitments to us or will not be allowed to do so by Father-God in the great and terrible Day of the Lord as it pertains to the United States. Because the Lord does not keep the city (Psalm 127), the watchman will, indeed, wake in vain.