The First Dream:
I dreamed that I was standing in the office building were I work, looking out of the window which faces east. In the distance, miles away, I could see that storm clouds on the horizon were churning, and gradually turning in a circle.
As I watched, the clouds began turning faster and faster. I called others to look, as the turning now filled the sky.
The spinning clouds formed a gigantic tornado, that was so large that it was wider than it was tall. It was monstrous! I could hear the rumble and groaning of the power of the storm where I stood. As I looked at the impossibly large tornado, I noticed that it was coming closer, and aiming directly for me. Oddly enough, I felt no fear, but was instead trying to warn the others there who were with me that the storm was coming.
The Second Dream
Several weeks later, I dreamed again.
I found myself in the same spot, looking from the same window as before. I must note here that I have never in my life returned to a dream before. But there I was, as if no time had passed at all. But, indeed, things had changed.
Drastically.
The tornado was now right up to the window, literally sucking the glass out of the window frames. I could see people being taken up by the storm, these people were bright white, as if they were made of fine china. Skin, clothes, all were the brightest white.
The power of the storm was unbelievable as it lapped at the windows and churned just feet away.
As I looked at it, I noticed that I was not afraid, but a overpowering sense of urgency came over me.
When I awoke at this point, the Lord spoke to me clearly about the dreams. He told me that the tornado was the time of his coming. It was approaching more rapidly than anyone could imagine, and would overtake those who were not prepared.
He did not tell me specifically who those were who were being taken up in the storm.
The Third Dream
A couple of nights later, I had a third dream. This time, I was in my home, and someone knocked at the door. When I opened it, there was a fierce storm raging outside, wind and rain were pelting down.
And at the door, stood a bride.
And I was expecting her. She was not my bride, but more like a daughter or a close friend, that is the feeling that I had.
She was standing there (I can still see this just like it was only a moment ago) with her head bowed, looking at me. It was obvious that she had struggled hard to arrive, but was here now, at the end of her journey through the storm. She was beautiful, and was holding a bouquet of white flowers, many small flowers like daisies. She was dripping, soaked to the bone from the rain, tussled and tossed, tired, but well.
I opened the door and stood aside to let her in.
At that point, the dream ended, and I awoke with a feeling of hope and contentment.
The bride is, I feel, the church of Christ. The real Church, the one who loves Him, not the church in buildings. The church that would come through a storm to be with Him. And she had.