Prophetic Dreams

When I was visiting my hometowns of La Chambre and St Jean in France, I had several prophetic dreams.

First, I dreamed that I gave birth to a child who could not breathe. It was lifeless. Then the doctor put it in my arms. He then tried to make it breathe by bending it back and forth. Still the child seemed deformed and sick. The doctor put it back in my arms. The legs and arms were falling apart like a broken doll. I was trying to fix it by putting the arms and legs together. I loved this child.

I was being helped. Monique, my spiritual daughter, was helping me to take care of this child, and then other people as well.

At the beginning of the dream there was a scene with people who were immoral and corrupt. At the end of the dream the child appeared alive in the arms of Monique, and I was to go with my child to meet many other parents with their children.

Then, a couple of days later, I dreamed I was in a room with three babies a few months old, sleeping. There were a few more people besides me.

I noticed one baby could not breathe, so I called the nurse who was in the back room. She did not seem to be too eager to do anything. So, I felt it was my responsibility to revive the child. I tapped it three times on the back. Suddenly the young child took a long deep breath and revived.

My interpretation is that God gave us life. In Genesis 2:7, it says God breathed into Adam to give him life: “And the LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Without God we have no life. We are lifeless. Spiritual life is more important than physical life.

Today God is seeking His children who are lifeless, who cannot breathe, because they rejected God or led corrupt and immoral lives without any concern for others or for their beloved Heavenly Parent.

Sin has consequences, even if God is a loving parent, we need to attune with our parent’s love and seek His will and direction for our life. Sometimes we need a spiritual parent to help us breathe, to guide us on the way until we reach maturity and can breathe on our own.

The photos below show me with my cousins and my daughter crossing the river to go to le Vallonnet, a village near Saint Sorlin d’Arves in the French Alps, where our common ancestor my great-grandma Sylvie Bartholomé lived.

In another one of my dreams, I saw in beautiful colors the bridge across the River Arc in my hometown. People were crossing that bridge very calmly and peacefully. On the other side it seemed so beautiful, like the new kingdom, a new world in a new heavenly land.

The last dream was very short but the message was very clear. The mountains around my hometown were crumbling down. Big rocks and stones were rolling all the way to the villages. It was a very dangerous situation.

At that moment I felt like a new Joan of Arc, telling the panicked people all in disarray, “This way! Follow me!”

These dreams encouraged me to give spiritual life to the people of my hometown.

Your friend, Elisabeth Seidel

My Mountains

When mountains are around me, I feel at home. I feel my best because I grew up in the French alps in a small village, and both my mom and dad have ancestors from this region.

We never had a TV at home, or even an inside shower or bathroom. We had one stove burning wood, and the bedrooms upstairs were cold. Even so, at night my mom would open my window a crack for fresh air. She said it was healthy.

The toilet was outside next to the home. So, in winter you could easily freeze your butt in there. The telephone came later. To call my grandma I had to go through an operator. I remember my phone number; it was number 31 in la Chambre and my grandma’s phone number was number 1 in Cuines. She probably was the first one to get a telephone then, as her number was one.

Even though while growing up I was not introduced to God, being in nature was the creation God made, and this immense beauty, calm, and serenity impressed me. All the views were breathtaking. In the summer sometimes I would go with my mom and neighbors to bring the cows high up on top of the mountain. Of course, we went on foot and it would take the whole day to arrive there. At 2000 or 3000 meters, you hear only the sounds of nature.

Even though I did not know about God, looking back I felt His presence in this immensity. Away from people, the sins of the world, away from anything human, I could hear something else there in my mountains. Being on top of the peak, you see the other side of the mountains; you are closest to the sky, and then to Heaven.

After we married, Dietrich and I and our children paid many visits to my hometown. One summer I recall, I really wanted to go back there on top of the mountains through a difficult and hazardous path, but I wanted to, even though I had physical limitations for walking such a path. Of course, my family always went with my brother leaving at 3.00 or 4.00 am before the sunrise, and picked Edelweiss and Génépi, a mountain plant, to make liquor and ease the digestion.

So, Dietrich and I went one morning. This trip represented the course and road of our lives. After just one hour, I was already exhausted. I needed vitamins, drink, snacks, and the like, and needed to rest. After some rest I could hardly climb, so Dietrich pushed me from behind; that was helpful. Then he pulled me by holding a stick; that was helpful too. At the end, he took me on his back. But we did arrive there. We arrived at our goal, at our destination. It was a very joyful moment.

This summer, going back to my hometown, I took the cable car to go to the top of my mountains. I just wanted to see all the valleys where my ancestors came from, and pray there by myself but together with our Heavenly Father. With only the sounds of nature, there was God.

Your friend, Elisabeth Seidel