Prophets deliver messages from "Elsewhere." Maybe you're in touch with this other place, but you haven't mentioned receiving messages, let alone sharing them.

I used to think my autistic daughter was gifted in some way. When she was really young, she saw an old white-haired neighbor walking along our road picking up garbage along the curb. "That's God," she said. At other times she seemed to know what I was thinking.

The seed from which this belief sprouted began with the idea that autism is a protective mechanism that blocks out the overwhelming sensations that the world bombards sensitive children with. (If that's not the world's most awkward sentence, I don't know what is.)