Dear Friends,

I want to share something deeply personal with you—an experience that has been with me since childhood but whose meaning is only now becoming clearer. It's not easy to discuss, but I believe that what I've experienced, both in dreams and in life, carries a message that needs to be heard.

When I was about seven years old, I had a recurring dream that left me with a profound sense of fear and sadness. In this dream, I found myself in a bunker that looked exactly like my parents' house inside. There was an overwhelming feeling of foreboding. When I looked outside, I saw a massive wall of reddish-brown smoke, dust, and fire approaching. I could see the entire world, half of it already engulfed by this destructive force, which was sweeping closer, ready to consume everything.

In the dream, I frantically ran to each family member, trying to wake them and make them see the impending danger. I shouted, "Get up! Get up! Can't you see what's happening?" But they seemed only half awake, barely registering my words. They responded with a resigned "What can we do? What happens, happens," as if powerless to stop it. I was desperate, insisting there was still time—that if we acted quickly, we could do something. But no matter how hard I tried, they remained in this half-asleep state. I faced an agonizing decision: should I leave them to save myself or stay and face destruction with them?

The dream always ended there, without resolution. I never knew if I stayed or left, or if anyone ever woke up. This dream haunted me for years, and even now, it evokes a deep emotional response. As a child, I couldn't fully grasp its meaning, but now, as I reflect on my life and the state of the world, I'm beginning to understand what it was trying to tell me.

I’ve always had dreams that seemed to carry a greater significance. Some of them have even come true down to the last second, with the smallest details matching reality perfectly. These dreams have felt like messages, like a glimpse into something bigger than myself, and this recurring dream of the wall of destruction feels like the most important one of all. The wall of smoke and fire that I saw coming towards us in my dream—now, I see it as a symbol for the state of the world. It represents the crises we face, both physical and spiritual. Whether it’s environmental destruction, war, social decay, or the loss of moral and spiritual grounding, it feels like a wave of chaos is sweeping across the globe. And just like in my dream, so many people are asleep, not seeing the danger ahead, or worse, believing that there’s nothing they can do to stop it. I have tried, just like I did in my dream, to wake people up. I’ve felt the urgency, the need to act quickly, to do something before it’s too late. But it’s been painful to realize that not everyone can see it the way I do. It hurts to know that some people might be too caught up in their own lives or too afraid to acknowledge the truth. I’ve struggled with this—whether to keep trying or to step back and focus on what I can do myself. What has become clear to me is that this dream wasn’t just a warning, but a call to action. It wasn’t about saving myself, but about leading others, even if it feels like they’re slow to respond. The deep terror and sadness I felt in the dream is something I’ve carried with me, and it’s not easy to talk about. I’ve broken down in tears, wept in a way I haven’t before, because the weight of what this dream means feels overwhelming at times.

I'm sharing this with you because I believe it's not just about me. This is a message for all of us. We're at a crucial point in history where we must wake up, not only to the physical dangers we face as a society but also to the spiritual decay threatening to consume us. We can't afford to remain asleep anymore. We can't shrug and say, "What happens, happens." There's still time to act, but only if we do so now.

This realization has been painful for me, yet it's also been a catalyst for change in my life. Since dedicating my life to Jesus, I've begun to see things more clearly. It's as if a fog has lifted, and although the weight of the world remains heavy, I know I'm not carrying it alone. I've learned to lean on God's strength and trust His guidance. Despite moments of doubt and fear, I now experience a deep sense of peace and purpose that wasn't there before.

My relationships have transformed too. I feel greater compassion and empathy for others, and I find myself wanting to help people see the truth—not by forcing it upon them, but by inviting them to open their eyes. It's challenging, and I know not everyone will respond as I hope, but that won't stop me from trying.

I believe this dream has resurfaced now, affecting me so deeply, because the time to act is upon us. We can't afford to wait any longer. Whether through small actions or larger movements, each of us has a role in waking up and making a difference. The dream didn't end with my destruction, which I believe is a message in itself. We still have a choice—we still have a chance to turn things around.

I share this not to spread fear, but to inspire hope. I believe that if we wake up and take action, we can avoid the worst of what's coming. But it will require all of us working together, trusting in God's plan, and finding the courage to move forward, even when it's difficult.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. If it resonates with you, if you've experienced similar feelings or had similar experiences, I'd love to talk more. We need each other now more than ever, and I believe that together, we can face whatever lies ahead.

With love and faith, Joseph