what paris taught me about 2024

It takes no gift of foresight to take a look at the year ahead and think, man, “wars and rumors of wars.”

I went to Paris for Christmas, which sounds very glamorous. In reality, it was Dickensian. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

Yep, that was Christmas in Paris.

Wandering the ancient stone streets of my ancestors, I wept under the love and care of God. I wept through most of Paris. I heard the clarity of the Voice I love with clarion call… I carried myself differently under the sound. I resonated under ancient promises made not just to me, but to generations. I ate croissants and made it my mission to taste the boeuf bourguignon and see that it was good.

In the slowness, my heart began to race again.

Even the French people seemed strangely warmed to me, and that’s what you call goodwill towards men… because friends, that’s a Christmas miracle.

In the midst of glory and wonder, I also had some of the most bizarre, dark spiritual encounters of perhaps my life, which were always followed by an infection level sickness. In the middle of two of those, I had to move out of where I was staying… on sickness number three, I started asking questions about the meaning of life, the health of my soul and if I would perish of the scurvy or some sort of wasting sickness located in the sewers of Paris.

Despite all ailments, I suspect so strongly that I was very much meant to be in Paris for Christmas, and I’m about to tell you why.

My experience in Paris was one of great swirl, chaos and confusion… and incredible sense of the love, nearness and kindness of God.

You’d best be believing I asked intently about this little foray to France… before leaving and after returning. What I so strongly sense I got a taste of (more than the boeuf bourguignon) was the swirl of the year to come.

The second night I was in Paris, I had a vision of a horned beast. It had two horns, and it was tearing with them, shaking its head back and forth. The horns were to divide and tear.

This was fairly what I saw, again and again in the middle of croissants and museums.

To see such things, you either have to see them as terrifying or as useful information.

The darkness is so clearly being exposed… for what it is… chaos meant to rip…

And instead, the light is ripping through.

And that brings us to 2024.

Walking over the Seine, I began to ask deeper questions about why my visit to Paris had been so chaotic. Instead of looking downwards, at my own situation or even at wars and rumors of wars, I finally began to look up.

What I saw was a sheet, with a rip in it. Light pours through the rip…

And I saw that the veil is being torn, yet again.

Christ.
Light pouring through.
A new aspect, that we’ve never seen…
never been able to see…

here we go.

Any chaos that 2024 brings us can only serve to rip the veil…
To disturb the darkness with piercing light
and to bring an unveiling
of the Voice that I love.