There was an election. There was much rejoicing, and there was much gnashing of teeth. There are now recounts.
There were a rash of notable coincidences in November. There were two in particular that are fairly easy to describe. The first one occurred on Election Day. I had to go into the office before dawn. I had voted early and had actually forgotten that it was Election Day. I drove past the club house that serves the enormous apartment community where I live. The same location serves as a polling place on Election Day. As I passed the club house, I realized that the big day was upon us and that people would begin voting soon. And then I “thought”, “Why don’t you go pray over the polling place?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” I thought back. “I’m on my way to work. I’m a busy man with much to do.” And then I thought, “What if it’s God prompting me to go pray?”
I didn’t waste another second on debate. I pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street and drove back to the club house. I drove around the lot and up to the front of the building. People were already trudging inside, under cover of the predawn darkness. I attempted to back into one of the parking place closest to the building. The parking job took a couple of tries, because I couldn’t see the curb well in the darkness. As I write this, I have no idea why I worked so hard to back into a parking place, when there were so many empty spaces I could have easily driven straight into. I guess I wanted to be able to look at the building while I prayed.
And so I did. I shifted in my seat to better face the building and blessed the polling place with integrity and protection against fraudulent activity. And I wondered if there was any point to doing that, since I technically didn’t have any particular authority over the building itself. No matter. My ten second prayer was finished, and I reoriented myself towards the windshield. At the instant that I looked through the glass, a married couple from church walked across the beams of my headlights. “Whoa!” I’d never seen either of them anywhere except church and had no idea they lived near me. I got out of my car and caught up to the couple. We exchanged a few words and I explained what I had been doing. No big deal to those fellow wild-eyed Charismatics.
I got back in my car and drove to work. During the five-minute trip, I was very interested in what had just happened. Why had I gone to pray? Possibly God had prompted me to do so. If had waited a half-second longer to pull a U-turn, I wouldn’t have seen the couple from church. If I had been able to perfectly park on my first attempt, I wouldn’t have seen them. Did any of that matter? Dunno. But it was interesting.
A second remarkable coincidence occurred a couple of days after the polling place episode. I had gone in early to the office again and then left early in the afternoon. I found myself out of the office at a highly irregular time, three hours before I’d have normally left for the day. The orientation of the sun, the early afternoon traffic patterns…everything was off kilter compared to what I normally see when I leave work.
I’d been driving for a few days with a screw in one of my tires, anticipating that I could get it checked out when I left work early that afternoon. I headed over to Discount Tire. At the store I went inside and took a place in line, waiting for the next available customer service rep. While I was waiting, a young woman joined the line behind me. I recognized her from church, though we weren’t personally acquainted. I knew her primarily as one who had participated in some classes I took at church back in the fall of 2012. She taught a couple of sessions on dream interpretation.
The woman was talking on her phone, so I didn’t say anything to her. A technician came available, and we went out to my car. I showed him the screw. He pulled the screw from the tire and sprayed some water on the exposed hole. Air bubbles in the water confirmed that I had a leak. I gave the tech my keys and went inside to wait while they patched my tire. By that time the woman had gone out to her own vehicle with another technician. I took a seat and waited. It was so weird that I was seeing someone from church out of context again, and this woman in particular.
I had been for some time wanting to thank her for her contribution in those classes. It was her instruction that ultimately encouraged me to begin journaling about my dreams. Lotta good fruit (and some frustrating confusion) has come about over the four years since those classes, owing to my paying attention to dreams and other sleep-related phenomena. But ever since I’d gotten a mind to thank her, I’d not seen her any more at church. Now here I was out of the office at a weird time, going to Discount Tire at a time other than my usual Saturday morning auto service habit, and there she was.
The woman came inside and spoke with a customer service rep for a bit. She approached the seating area, and I called her name. She came over and sat near me, and we talked for about ten minutes. We talked dreams, church, and tires; and I was finally able to thank extend thanks, which she graciously accepted. At one point she asked, “Do you work in technology?” I replied in the affirmative. She continued, “I think I saw you’re going to be doing something different, and you’re going to have a level of provision that you’ve never had before.”
I hadn’t expected any prophetic bennies at Discount Tire. Something other than technology sounded absolutely outstanding, as did (presumably) increased provision. And both of those elements fit nicely in the stream of prophecies that I’ve been getting for years. I knew that the woman had a reputation as being prophetically gifted, even in waking state. We carried on our conversation for another minute or so, and then my car was ready. We said our goodbyes, and I went out and got into the driver’s seat of my car. I sat there briefly and marveled at what had just happened. I said something or other out loud to God and drove home.
A week later there was another remarkable set of coincidences that I won’t detail here. It involved my mother; a guy that I’ve known longer than anyone else I keep in touch with; his mother; the church that my family and my friend’s family attended when we were kids; which church my friend’s mother still attends and my mother recently began re-attending peripherally. Too much to describe in detail. But it was officially freaking me out, all the coincidences that were happening in November
My kids and I went to the church Saturday prophetic prayer rooms in mid-November. I went back for prayers first. There were four people in the ministry team. They prayed for a minute silently and then shared their impressions. The first woman said, paraphrased, “I see you blowing up a balloon. You’ve been breathing life into many things that are in this balloon. If it’s fun to blow up a balloon, it’s even more fun to pop it. I see you holding a needle, ready to pop the balloon. You’ve been asking God, “Can I pop it? Can I pop it?” He’s been saying, “Just a little more air.” Now I see you entering a season where it will be time to pop the balloon. When the balloon pops, all the things you’ve been breathing life into will be released from the balloon, like confetti, into existence.”
Along the same line of thought, another member of the prayer team said, paraphrased: “I see you holding a large needle. You’ve been sewing together several large pieces of fabric. The whole thing is as big as you are. You have just a very few stitches left, after which the project will be complete. I think you are a whole lot closer to the end than you think you are. I don’t know what the finished product will be; but I’m excited to find out.”
The two other prayer ministers had similar and encouraging words about how to reach “the end” and what the transition into “the after” might look like. Regarding the balloon and confetti, there are any number of things that would fit the description of such confetti in my life. A popped balloon is a sudden and loud thing. There will be no denying such a thing if it occurs.
I’ve received dozens of mostly impromptu and some sought-out prophetic revelations since 2007. In a February 2010 encounter, the prophecies took a deliberate and congruent (thanks, Mary, for figuring out the perfect word) tone. That same encounter introduced a theoretical timeframe of February 2017 as a point by which I should expect something big. In 2012 and 2013, when I first started attending Upper Room, the consistent theme of any prophetic encouragement was, “God is starting something in you.” In the time since those months, there have been any number of confirmations that God did indeed start something in me; but there’s been no indication that any notable end was in sight. In the years that I’ve been receiving these prophecies, 2016 is the only year that anyone has said anything about a pending completion: the “Joseph” guy in February, saying, “You’re at the door;” the “kicking down walls” guy in April; and now these folks in November. In July 2016 the word of the month was “patient”. Four months almost to the day since “patient” arrived on the scene, there was some sudden consensus that an end is near.
It’s a good idea to make an audio or video recording, whenever possible, of any possible prophetic encounter. A recording allows for relaxed and repeated playback, so that you can fully take in the message. Anyone who has such a recording will be better equipped to filter the prophetic content for information that seems worth keeping or not. Without a recording of some kind, it’s easy to get lost in the hearing moment, trying to absorb, filter, and critique every spoken syllable.
My kids and I used my phone to record the prayer sessions that Saturday. One recording was my solo session. A second recording was for the session in which both of my kids went back at the same time. The kids and I listened to a playback of their session when we got home. I’ve listened to my own recording a few times in order to get my mind around what the prayer team told me.
At the end of Thanksgiving weekend, I told my kids about the 1237/Trump thing. I had told them early on in the process, probably in the summer of 2015, about the text visions. I’d never mentioned the 1237 sightings. After a few months of text visions that seemed to be going nowhere, into the fall of 2015, I stopped relating any of it to them. So they were completely unaware of the elephant dreams, the Trump vision in early January 2016, or any of the gradual Trump revelation that occurred throughout the rest of this year.
I told them as much as I could remember about all of it in an impromptu discussion, after we had prayed on Sunday evening. Before that evening they were marginally aware of the campaigns and elections; and they weren’t at all familiar with the idea of party conventions and delegate votes. But they could understand the idea of repeatedly seeing a number in surprise fashion. I gave them a crash course in presidential politics. I showed them the deposit slip from the bank which had the 12:37 timestamp on it. I made the point that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also our God; and our God talks to people in interesting ways today, just like He did back in the days of the patriarchs. My primary intent in telling my kids what I did when I did was to encourage them to be hopeful, despite the persistent struggles in our lives and especially in our family. It was a fun end to the weekend.
The next evening, I wanted to listen again the recording of my session with the prayer team a couple of weeks earlier. I got my phone out and opened up the voicenotes interface. I selected “Show Voicenotes”. The list of available recordings appeared. Between prior listens to either of the two recordings we made of our prayer sessions, I’d gone into that same interface at least three times since the day of the recordings. It wasn’t until that Monday evening after Thanksgiving, the day after telling my kids about 1237/Trump, that I noticed an interesting thing – the duration of the recording of my kids’ prophetic prayer session was 12:37. “No way!” I laughed. Weird. Or was it?
A few nights later, when we three were back together again, I showed them the timestamp on the voicenote. They were interested. Five minutes later, we were all in the living room, preparing to read some Bible together. The clock radio had been powered on at the wall switch some minutes earlier. I glanced at the radio and saw 12:36. I debated for a millisecond whether I should point out 12:37 to my kids, who weren’t sitting where they could easily see the clock. I looked at Offspring the Elder and pointed at the clock. As I pointed 12:37 appeared on the display. She followed my point with her head and eyes, looking for whatever I’d silently directed her to see. She searched the table top for anything of interest and finally saw 12:37. She looked at me, grinned her custom megawatt grin, and called her sister’s attention to the sight. They were both interested again. I smiled and said, “See? Isn’t this wild?” And two days later still, as we headed out the door for church at 9:40am, the clock radio showed 12:37. I pointed that out to my kids, and they were, again, interested. Very interested.
As we drove to church I thought out loud about the phenomenon. In all the months that 1237 had crescendoed from curious flicker to prophetic powerhouse, I’d never mentioned any of that to my kids. Correction: I had told them early in the text vision experience that I was seeing words that appeared to be projected into my mind. I eventually stopped talking to them about it. The text visions didn’t seem to be developing into anything useful; and I also didn’t want the kids’ mother to hear that, “Daddy is seeing weird words that aren’t really there” or anything that might give her ammunition to use against me with regard to custody. I definitely never mentioned 1237 to them.
Until late November 2016, that is. And right after I told them about 1237, 1237 began showing up in our collective lives, as related in this post. Interesting, to say the least. And all three of the 1237 sightings related to my kids over those few days were affiliated with faith activities – the voicenote; the sighting at Bible-reading time; and the occurrence as we headed out the door for church. For whatever that is worth.
In the second half of November I began noticing 12:12 in the same weird way that I’d noticed 12:37 and 11:11. The best way I can describe it is, it’s like seeing the numbers on the clock face for the first time ever, even though I’ve seen them a bazillion times in my life up to now. That is, it’s surprising to see those digits, even though I know I shouldn’t be surprised. After 12:37 was proved to be a real thing, I’m pretty confident about telling the Internet that a particular time on the clock is suddenly very interesting. Whether or not 12:12 pans out as a true prophetic impulse remains to be seen. As Mary pointed out last night, maybe it’s related to this old moth-eaten thing.
November was about interesting coincidences. Actually a lot of this blog’s content is about interesting coincidences. But the November coincidences had a peculiar feel to them. It felt like many unrelated elements in my life were being connected by threads into a web, and then the web was being pulled tighter by a drawstring. That’s the best I can come up with, because this has never happened before.
As I typed this post, for example, I realized that the spot where I did my U-turn on Election Day was a stone’s throw from the spot where I discovered 12:37 on my deposit slip, in June of 2015. Right around the time that Donald Trump declared his candidacy, unbeknownst to me. Seventeen months after that deposit slip was printed, people were voting for Donald Trump right around the corner from my U-turn. The couple whom I saw at the polling place are from the church where my interest and sensitivity to wild coincidences were activated. My interest and sensitivity were activated beginning in the fall of 2012, at that same church, and in part by the presentation by a woman whom I saw coincidentally a couple of days after Election Day. Web, drawstring, etc…