Worse Than You Thought It Would Be Dream – TRANSCRIPT March 18, 2023
It’s called “Worse Than You Thought It Would Be.” I had the dream between March 10th and March 18, 2023.
The dream began with me loading an ’80s-style station wagon with lawn chairs, blankets, and large coolers. My kids were younger, between the ages of 10 to 15, the youngest being 10, and the oldest being 15. They were excited about going to a very large fireworks display close to the town we live in, but I could not distinguish whether it was Kentucky, Indiana, or somewhere else. I just knew I didn’t recognize exactly where I was. The drive there was in the early evening, and traffic was very heavy. SUVs and trucks were loaded down with outdoor items.
As we got closer to the fireworks location, there were signs pointing to parking and other carnival-like activities. There were blow-ups, kids riding horses in a circle, some carnival rides, a lot of music, and people trying to pop balloons and stuff like that. These signs were pointing to the parking and carnival-like activities that covered an extremely large field. When I say large, I mean like three to four football fields. The fireworks area was set up near a section that had been cordoned off with barricades. There was a large section for parking and for people walking around, putting blankets on the ground, and getting ready for the fireworks display.
The place was packed with cars and people—hundreds and hundreds of people. It seemed like every child present had sparklers, and teens were lighting up bottle rockets and firecrackers responsibly under adult supervision, which reminded me of the ’80s when things were a little bit different. There was a bluff area that overlooked the flat ground, and we decided to park the car there. We got the blankets, lawn chairs, and food out and began to talk about the fireworks that were about to be displayed. Then there was an announcement over the loudspeakers that they would start in 15 minutes, and patriotic music began to play. However, it didn’t feel like a July 4th or Flag Day event. Fireworks are typically associated with the Fourth of July, but the feeling wasn’t there.
People were moving, laughing, and getting ready for the fireworks. The entire field below us was filled with people, and the cars were parked on the sides around them. There appeared to be thousands of people excited to see the show. After a bit, the announcer asked everyone to stand for the national anthem, which was then played. When it stopped, it got very quiet, and the people sat down. My family and I did as well.
The first shots of the fireworks went straight into the air and seemed to go up forever, but there was no noise, lights, or explosions. It was literally two minutes of silence with everybody looking up until there was this horrific noise like a bomb going off. My family and I jumped, and everyone else in the area did too. It was so loud, so sudden, and so overwhelming. There were huge flashes of light, like hundreds of flares suddenly being uncapped. If you’ve ever seen a flare uncapped, it was like lights just appearing all over the place. But it was also debris raining down on people—hot bits of burning sticks and paper, bigger than expected chunks of what looked like wood, and pieces of brick hitting people. People were screaming and running. Most of this was happening down in the field.
The announcer came on and told people to remain calm as the problem would be remedied soon. He said it in a very calm voice. Just then, another burst of fireworks shot into the air, but they sounded more like F-16s taking off—really loud. After a few minutes of silence, they exploded like a bomb. Now people were running everywhere, some with clothing and hats on fire, and families were gathering, yelling out their kids’ names. People were running towards their cars, and some of the cars were now burning. People were running towards the bluff where my family was. I told my kids to leave everything and get in the car as fast as they could.
This is when it got harrowing. Debris was still falling and burning, and people were screaming and running for their lives. More cars in the field were burning, and people were frantic for safety. My kids got in the car, and we tried to maneuver our way out. People were surrounding my car, beating on the windows, trying to get in. I had driven a station wagon, a car I never owned but my father had. The people were beating on the windows, but the inside of the car was so small nobody would fit. I hit the gas, and though I did not hit anybody, I saw the crowd was dangerous. They had crazy looks in their eyes, trying to get in, checking door handles. The doors were locked, my kids were holding each other, and we were just trying to get out of there. My wife and kids were terrified.
I maneuvered the car down the bluff, got back on the road, and that’s when we realized this was not just a fireworks event. There were houses burning, cars abandoned along the road, and the sky was alive with fire and darkness. It wasn’t lightning; it seemed like there was fire burning in several places in the air. Under the overpasses we went by, people were waiting it out, watching the skies with great concern. People were in their cars and out of their cars, under the overpasses, looking up to see what was going on. I tried the radio, but there was only static. I stopped and asked under the overpass if anyone knew what was going on, but nobody knew anything. People were trying to make phone calls, but the calls weren’t going through. The overwhelming number of calls was jamming the system.
We got back on the road, headed home as fast as we could. The roads were littered with trash, cars parked and burning, burning trees—overall chaos. When we got back to our house, we locked the doors and turned the TV on. There were emergency signals scrolling at the bottom of the screen and local numbers to report damage. No mention of war, missiles, or military equipment. The news anchor desk showed reporters with satellite phones, frantically trying to talk to people and share information. Then I heard a camera guy say, “We’re going live in five, four, three, two, one.”
Sitting at the desk in the newsroom was the man I always see in the dreams, whom I call Jesus. He was wearing a dress shirt, looking at a clipboard, and he looked directly into the camera and began reporting. He said, “We have gotten report after report of strange occurrences at outdoor activities, and 911 calls have overwhelmed the entire nationwide system. Many of you are aware that chaotic events spread over the entire country have left fires and confusion on every front.”
Then he said, “Let me be very clear, it is worse than you thought it would be. You were warned and told that perilous times were coming, but this is worse than you thought it would be. Many have ignored the truth, and now it is worse than you thought it would be.” At this point, tears began to stream down his face, and he put his hands on his face and head, composing himself. He looked at the camera again and spoke further, but the tears continued. It reminded me of the commercial about pollution in the ’70s with a Native American in a canoe crying when he saw the pollution.
Then he said, “Don’t leave your first love. Do not fear what you’re about to suffer. Stay repentant in the center of the will. Overcome. Walk through the open door. Stay disciplined. I will walk beside you during persecution and pain.” When he said “pain,” a tear streamed down his face and hit the desk, amplifying the moment. Many will say that it’s worse than they thought it would be, and they will be right. Remain hard-braced and battle-ready. I am coming, and my reward is with me. I am with you always, and as far as to your end.”
The last thing he said was, “These are the hard facts in the news, as I am reporting to you in living color.”
I turned off the TV and looked at my kids, who now appeared to be their age today, having aged about 10 to 12 years. My wife and I joined a circle, and we began to pray for boldness and strength. Then there was a knock at the door. Without fear, I opened the door, and there were several families crying and holding smaller kids. They asked if they could come in so I could explain to them what was going on. We invited them into our home, and when the door shut, all the outside noise stopped. A little girl from one of the families said, “I feel better in here than I did out there.” Then I woke up.