The Break
So, on December 30th
I left out, sometime in the wee hours of the morning. Before I backed out of
the driveway, I threw the angel figurine from my father’s funeral across the
street under the neighbor’s mailbox. I grabbed mail and jewelry from my car and
threw it in the street. I placed some of it in another neighbor’s mailbox. I
made sure I had my purse, cash, and phone. I knew it was time to leave when I
saw a family friend leaving the church parking lot across the street; his name
is Emmanuel (“God with us”), and I was certain that was my cue to start my
journey. I was sure that he would meet up with other Christian leaders in the
area and let them know the uprising was starting.
I headed to
Memphis, except I went the opposite direction. I didn’t seem to notice or care;
I kept driving. Every few minutes I would become confused, but I would pray and
ask God what to do and I went back to the mission. I stopped somewhere along
the way on the side of the road and posted a selfie to Facebook. I got back on
the road for a while, and then I felt the need to message some friends with
some more clues. I quickly started texting random words that had meaning to me at
the moment to a few people, one of them being my mom. She called and asked me
what was going on, and I told her that I couldn’t talk because I had to take
care of an on-call issue. I kept cycling back and forth between confusion and
determination for the duration of my drive.
Suddenly, the car
started acting funny. It sputtered and lurched, so I pulled to the side of the
road and eventually the car rolled to a stop. I was out of gas. In my haste I
hadn’t bothered to look at the gas gauge. I started praying about what my next
move should be. I felt impressed to get rid of all my secular CDs in the car
because they would hinder me from hearing God. I grabbed my Chris Stapleton and
Ariana Grande albums, bent them until they broke into multiple pieces, and
threw them into the roadway. The album booklets I tore up and also threw out.
Then, I instantly knew what I had to do. There were thick woods to my right off
of the highway, and the kids I needed to save were in there. I had to go in.
As I was walking
towards the dense forest, I abruptly came to my senses. It was really, really
cold. I had a coat on but no gloves, and my fingers were rigidly frozen. Before
I got to the edge of the woods, I stopped and went back towards a light on the
side of the road. I looked at my phone and realized that it was quickly dying.
I put it in power saving mode, knowing I had some calls to make. I was no
longer sure what I was doing out here, and I was scared because I was cold and
not really sure where I was. I sent out
a text asking for help to a coworker.
My mind cycled
back to my mission. If I couldn’t help these kids, someone had to. I called 911
and spouted out all the clues I could in rapid-fire succession. Again,
seemingly random words that I knew had significance to my mission. The operator
said she was sending some officers out immediately. I described my location to
her the best I could, telling her that I had to be somewhere near Memphis. I
was on a major highway, near some words, and a car body shop with a big light
near it.
Just a few minutes
later as I was walking up and down the ditch, I saw the police cars pulling up.
Two officers came up to me and started asking questions. But they didn’t ask
anything about the children in the woods – they just wanted to know about me.
Had I been on any drugs, under the influence of alcohol, did I have any weapons
or anything else they should know about? I said no but I quickly pulled out and
surrendered the $700. The officers then put me into the back of one of their
vehicles to keep warm while they made some phone calls. Moments later they came
and told me that they were going to get me some help. Suddenly a woman appeared
in the back seat with me. Her face was in the shadows but I could feel her
patting me, telling me it was going to be okay.
We soon arrived at
a hospital. They quickly took a urine sample and had me change into a gown. As
I laid in the emergency room bed I momentarily knew something was wrong, but
the next instant I was set on getting out of there and continuing the mission.
For some reason I felt like the nurses outside my room were mocking me, so I
took off my wedding rings and threw them out the door. While I laid there I
continued to cycle back and forth between what I thought was reality and the
real world. I noticed that the names of the nurses for each shift were posted
on the wall – Amy and Teresa. I instantly felt at ease because these were my
friends. I paid no mind to the fact that my friends Amy and Teresa are not
nurses.
Eventually my
husband and sister-in-law showed up. I was happy to see them. I remember
talking a lot, but I don’t remember everything I said. My husband was very
clearly distraught. With tears in his eyes he told me that he was going to
ensure that I got the help I needed. I said okay, but wanted to make sure that
we were still going to our New Years Eve party in Nashville, as it now was
December 31st. My husband said that he did not know. Shortly, they
pulled me back for a CT scan of my brain. While I was back there, I remember
arguing with the tech that was putting me in position for the scan; over what,
I have no recollection. I remember hearing the voice of one of my supervisors
from work in the background and yelling her name. I began to see and hear all
kinds of people that I knew in the hospital, though they would not acknowledge
me as someone they knew, which was very frustrating.
I later found out
that the CT scan showed an enlarged pineal gland, so they sent me back for an
MRI. I do not remember this part. The MRI showed no significant findings. At
this point, the hospital determined that I needed mental health treatment and
after calling multiple hospitals that either could not or would not take me,
they coordinated for me to be transferred to Crestwyn Behavioral Health in
Memphis. I said my goodbyes to my
family, and off I went.
I remember nothing
about traveling from Huntingdon to Memphis. The next thing I recall is being in
triage at Crestwyn. I was cold and they had provided me with a pink blanket
which I kept pulling up over my head for some reason. It seemed like I was in
there forever. They had to take my photo, and in it I look very happy, almost
giddy, and the bags under my eyes give away that I hadn’t slept in days.
I heard male voices in a nearby room, and I knew there were three men
in there: my husband, a former professor and family friend, and one of my work contacts. I called them out by name, and the work contact started singing. He
sang an old time, slavery-style song and while he was singing I knew deep in my
soul that he was connected to me and my family. Puzzle pieces started fitting
together in my head as I realized that he was cousins with my late stepmother.
We sang back and forth in a call and response style for what seemed like hours.
I knew that my professor was in there to work on cracking the code of my
prophecy and to help me share it with the world.
No one had
mentioned the children I was trying to save, and for some reason I seemed to
have forgotten about it too. Finally, a nurse came and took me back, forcing me
to say goodbye to my friends next door. I had no idea what was ahead.
TO BE CONTINUED...
