Madison Meadows Spiritual Blog: A Journey into Mysticism, Dreams, Twin Flames, & Healing

Some dreams are warnings. In 2012, I had two powerful dreams about the exploitation of women involving powerful people involved in human trafficking. I wrote them down. Published, Stringing Beads in 2013. Did the dreams foreshadow the Epstein Files? At the time, I didn’t fully understand why these dreams came so intensely. But here we are, years later, as global trafficking networks continue to be exposed. My journal entries now feel more relevant than ever.  If you are drawn to prophetic dreams, spiritual insight, or the truth behind human trafficking awareness, I invite you to read and decide for yourself what these visions may have been revealing. Download your copy here>> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MEGHT6Y

  ​They say that turtles carry their homes on their backs, moving through the world at a pace that refuses to be rushed. I’ve always felt a deep connection to that. For twenty-five years, I shared my life with a desert tortoise. A quarter-century of slow, steady companionship. When I eventually had to give him away, that love for tortoises and turtles stayed with me. ​Years ago, while visiting my mom in Hannibal, Missouri, I found a beautiful turtle ring. It was the perfect souvenir…a tiny, silver reminder of my roots, my mom, and the tortoise I’d loved for so long. ​But then, life got a little complicated. ​Two years ago, I traveled to Kalamazoo, Michigan. I was visiting a friend…someone I thought at the time might be a soulmate. It was one of those "Person of Interest" chapters where you’re trying to see if the pieces fit. ​As it turns out, the romantic spark didn't catch, though we remained friends. But as I flew back home from that trip, I realized with a he...

  From Journal Entry 2/3/20 26 ​ ​ I was deep in a dream when I heard a distinct, rhythmic knock. It wasn't a heavy thud, but that sharp, familiar sound of knuckles hitting a screen door. It was so clear that I sat upright, my heart racing, convinced someone was standing on my porch in the middle of the night. ​ I got up and walked through the quiet house, checking the door, only to realize... there was no one there. It was just the wind. The wind was literally catching the door and creating a perfect, persistent knock. ​ As I stood there in the dark, a strange feeling washed over me. It wasn't fear. It was relief. ​ In the spiritual world, wind is often seen as Pneuma—the breath of spirit, a messenger of change. And if I’m being honest, change is exactly what’s knocking on my door right now. ​ My youngest child is graduating high school. For years, the sounds of my home have been the beautiful chaos of raising children…doors slamming, laughter, footsteps, and con...

  From Journal Entry 1/16/2026 In the dream, he was “in town,” but it felt deeper than that…he was in my space, as if his energy had walked straight into my home. Others were around, but I felt this subtle pull, the way I used to when I sensed him without even looking. That knowing. I remember waking up outside in long, thick, green grass… disheveled, in just shorts and a sports bra. Vulnerable, unfiltered. I touched the grass; it felt grounding, real. And when I looked up, I saw him. Older now. Weathered in the way time shapes a soul. He was talking with others, but we kept catching each other in these moments where neither of us expected to be seen. At one point he watched me doing something silly, and I laughed and said, “You caught me.” That was always our dance…me watching him, him watching me, each pretending not to notice. Cat and mouse. A silent language. I then brushed my teeth in the bathroom—symbolic cleansing—turning off a leaking valve like I was regulating...

  ​ From Journal Entry 1/17/2026 ​ I was on this island. And when I say island. The water was so clear, sparkling under the sun. I was riding shotgun in some kind of truck, a Jeep maybe, with this woman who seemed to know the place like the back of her hand. She was my guide, my local expert, breezing through everything. ​ Except the roads? They weren't exactly roads. Or, they were, but they were completely submerged! I'm talking deep enough that the truck was practically underwater. We'd drive through these underwater paths, the water swirling around us, completely covering the vehicle. And the craziest part? She just kept driving. No hesitation, no fear. The truck just powered through every single time. It was wild! I was probably clutching the dashboard with wide eyes, thinking, "Is this for real?!" ​ We eventually pulled up to this little restaurant, still feeling like we’d just surfaced from a deep-sea expedition. We sat down, and she ordered noodles....

  Go as deep inside of me as you want Penetrate my core Explore  When you reach the Edge of me Know it's not Where I end But it is where I begin My mystery Is your doing  My history  Is you becoming Undone in me Where there is no you And there is no me There is only I We both like This intimate game Of hide and seek When you find me Then it is my turn To find you We invented the game And the world is our Playground And when we are bored With it or want to hide From the world  We know the secret Entrance to a secret  World that only lovers Know how to find Our mystery  Is the key to Understanding life's  Mysteries Oh if everyone just Gave up the silly games Of the world  And joined in with The lovers for a little Game of hide and seek This world would vanish Into nonexistent All beings would become Invisible cloaked in Joseph's coat Of many colors  The dead would rise out of their graves  And sing Hallelujah  Moses would come do...

  When Dementia Becomes a Spiritual Encounter From Journal Entry 8/2025 ​ I was sitting in my client's home, a space I’ve grown so familiar with through the quiet rhythms of caregiving. If you’ve ever cared for someone with dementia and aphasia, you know the specific kind of heartbreak that comes with it…the way words become "scrambled," or how a person’s thoughts seem to swim just out of their reach before they can find the surface. ​ But on this day, the experience shifted from the physical to the metaphysical. ​ Suddenly, I felt the unmistakable presence of a man in the room. He wasn't just a "feeling"…it was a weight, a personhood. He began to mumble, his speech broken and fragmented, echoing the exact same aphasia that my client struggles with every day. The entity seemed lost, caught in the same fog of confusion that has settled over my client’s life. ​ Then, he reached out and touched my arm. ​ In that moment, I didn't feel fear; I felt ...