You know, it seems the naysayers may have been strongly influenced by someone close to them early in their lives who vehemently opposed UFO info.
My mother was raised during the Depression. Her electrician father fed his family through many, many moves and jobs, one of which took him to Washington state where he worked on a construction site with a group who had witnessed a phenomenal UFO display. All of the men concurred and it was a fixed fact among them. The story left such an impression on my mother that we were raised to believe, without a doubt, that this encounter, and others, were truthfully related.
We were not raised in fear of it, but a life UFO free would be fine with me!
Fascinating.
Do you recall any specifics from such observations?
Thanks for your kind post.
You and me both, Sister FReeper! As Quix knows, I hope very much that all of us here, including Onerom99, live to healthy old age and die contentedly, still arguing whether or not they exist.
I see the humorous graphic that naysayers occasionally post to these threads with a pic of a flying saucer and the words, "I want to believe!" I can well imagine a time when they will be wishing, "I don't want to believe!" Along with yours truly, althought I already don't want to believe.
I don't want to believe, any more than I want to believe that people can be lying thieves. But I'm not insane or kooky enough to believe that three people I've known extremely well, not to mention an American patriot and fighter pilot like Gordon Cooper, are insane kooks. THAT would be truly nuts ... or truly and desperately self-delusional.
Quix has a studied Christian approach to explain his dread of these things with his informed End Times scenarios. My reason for dreading them is less scholarly. Years before discovering Free Republic in 2002 (so I know that it's not related to this), I began having -- uncharacteristically, as my dreams are almost always pleasant -- powerful and terrifying dreams, the same variation in every dream.
It is that my husband and I are outside enjoying something to do with recreation in a public place with lots of people celebrating a holiday, and suddenly the sky is filled with beautiful fripperies, pretty ribbon-like affairs that look like fireworks and fanfare. It becomes quickly clear that they are announcing the "happy" and "friendly" arrival of UFOs, other-planetary aliens, and 99 percent of the people are overjoyed and certain that the arrival is good news because why else would they go to such trouble to treat us to such a beautiful and comforting display?
Meanwhile, about one percent of us, including me and my husband, are instantly filled with foreboding and we all understand that the only way the human race will survive is for us to escape underground someplace. So while the glassy-eyed adoring mobs (as if they're greeting Obama himself!) converge toward the UFOs, the small groups of us know of underground labyrinths and head there, quickly, and in one dream in particular I remember looking out at the sky one last time before hurrying down into a labyrith, and wondering how many generations it will be before humans are able to emerge and see the sky again, in freedom.
I cannot exaggerate the power and real-ness of these dreams. They are not "iffy," or convoluted, or confusing, or wishy-washy. They are very real and deeply frightening yet in a weird way, comforting. In their intensity, they are unlike any dreams I've ever had except a very few overpoweringly good dreams where I believe God provided comfort to me in trying times, and I awoke renewed and restored.
I'm too old to ignore my spiritual gut anymore -- I've learned over the years to heed. Quix suggested, when I relayed the dreams to him, that the Holy Spirit was telling me something. I like to think that's what it is, but one thing I "know" for sure -- when UFOs make themselves publicly known to man, misery for mankind begins.