Dreams and Signs

I have been a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints since I was born. I go to church every Sunday and have for, well, as long as I can remember. I have received answers to prayers. I have been involved in miracles- healings, prophecies, etc. I have tried my best at different stages of life to live up to God's expectations for me. I've learned to distinguish between when heaven is communicating with me and when my feelings or ideas are coming from my own reasoning or anxiety. That is why, when I woke up that cold February morning at 4:30, I knew I had experienced more than just your average dream.
In this dream, my family and I were at a church picnic in the Wasatch Mountains in Utah, huge granite peaks with idyllic spreads of green in between and on top. The picnic tables were situated on a slope and were filled with church members eating, talking, and otherwise enjoying the event. My sons were playing with some other children; my wife was talking to some of the other moms in the crowd. A peculiar spot caught my eye in the sheer mountainside that loomed over us. I wandered away from the group to get a closer look.
The subject of my interest was a wet spot in the rock face where it seemed a waterfall used to pour down into a natural basin. Trickles of water still ran down the rocks but soaked into the earth. I surveyed the huge rocks with the usual awe that I felt amid the mountains.
Suddenly, a low rumble, almost imperceptible, started up in the ground beneath me. No one at the picnic even seemed to notice. I wondered if I was imagining it. But the rumbling grew stronger. Cries of alarm began to rise from the crowd. People were looking at the parking lot. Trees and telephone poles were swaying. The rumbling grew into a violent shaking. I became aware of a sound like the ocean. I turned and looked up at the rock face. The rocks were breaking apart and a massive wave of water was bursting from the mountainside, looming over us.
I turned and began sprinting toward the crowd, shouting for everyone to run. It took a few seconds for them to see what I had seen. The water was blasting everything away in its path as it roared through the parking lot and pulverized the restroom building. People started getting up out of their seats and trying to get out of the way, but I could see the water rushing toward us and knew it was too late. My eyes were darting over the crowd, searching for my wife and children. With everyone in a stampede, I couldn't see them. With all of my physical ability, I couldn't save them from the water.
At that moment, a voice came into my head, saying, "It's too late. It's too late. It's too late."
I awoke from my dream wide-eyed, as if I hadn't fallen asleep at all. The words "it's too late" kept echoing in my mind. I jumped out of bed, went downstairs, and sat at the kitchen table in silence. My wife came down a few minutes later and thought I was having a breakdown or a crisis (MBA programs will do that to you). I wanted to do something. I felt like someone, probably someone very important, was trying to tell me to do something.
This wasn't the first dream I had had like this. My wife had experienced similar dreams. Sometimes at night, she would lie awake and talk about how she felt like something bad was coming. I chalked it up to her worrying nature, but, deep inside, I felt something, too. At the time, I filed away all of my apocalyptic dreams into my wild imagination box. Weeks went by, and the dream of the water pouring from the mountain stayed on my mind.
Then, one day, I heard a co-worker talking about the last days, meaning the days before the second coming of Christ. This isn't an uncommon topic for LDS members. In fact, it is one of those campfire favorites, perhaps because it involves wars, plagues, earthquakes, and storms on a literally biblical scale. I like to think we enjoy talking about it because it will herald the return of our Lord and Savior to rule on earth and a thousand years of peace and prosperity. My co-worker was talking about a book containing accounts of people's dreams about the last days.
I normally avoid anything that seems too much like conspiracy theories and not enough like gospel doctrine, but, in this particular instance, I felt a nudging in my heart to ask him if I could borrow his book. He said I could if I promised to bring it back unharmed. I agreed to his terms and he brought the book the next day. What I would read there over the next three days would change the way I looked at the gospel and the meaning of preparation...