Turning Point - Word of the Year for 2026

Turning Point - Word of the Year for 2026

Written: August 31, 2025

I was in the middle of a wheat field. “Why?” I whispered to the Holy Spirit. “Am I back in another wheat field?” I heard the Lord say, “It is a representation of possibility and potential. You have the potential to be obedient and to grow. There is the possibility for harvest. My heart longs to see the wheat in bloom in your life and for us to walk together, but My people are easily distracted. What seems good and from Me—they haven’t slowed down to ask for My opinion.”

I touched the wheat with my left hand and looked around the meadow. To my right was a thick line of tall trees. Their trunks were strong, the canopy broad. I saw a defined path cut into the wheat, leading into the sunlit woods. I squinted against the light glistening on the leaves and saw a large banquet table sitting fifty yards or so inside the wooded area. The path led straight to the table.

Even though I stood in the middle of the vast meadow filled with wheat, I could see the table as clearly as if I were standing next to it. It was filled with my favorite things—what I imagined an opulent banquet table should look like. I watched as others in the meadow paused to gaze at the table in the woods. They began to laugh and shout excitedly.

“Do you see the turkey?” shouted one.

“No! It doesn’t have a turkey—it has a ham!” shouted another.

I looked at the table. What I saw was neither of those meats.

“It’s like seeing an oasis in the desert. It is all you hope for, your idea of perfection, wrapped in what you truly find enjoyable and comforting. It’s custom to you, because they know how to speak to you.”

The Holy Spirit had entered the meadow. The path was guarded by two very tall men with blonde hair that fell to their shoulders. They wore off-white garments—simple in appearance. They looked like angelic hosts, but as I caught their gaze, I recognized them from the village: watchers. They may have once been of the warrior class in Heaven, but they no longer pledged their allegiance to God Most High. They had a new allegiance now.

I turned my gaze to my left. Apparently, I did not want to go toward the comforting light and the satisfying dinner. No—I must want to walk a different path. I glanced toward the Holy Spirit. “This stinks, by the way,” I said, gesturing toward the glowing tree line. He just shrugged.

To my left was a darkened tree line. It was dense, but I could make out a red glow deep in the woods—fire! My eyes traveled upward to the mountain range rising behind the tree line’s base. Sharp peaks, their tops dusted with snow. I felt the earth quake, the mountain tremble, the trees bow as the ground shook. Suddenly, the tallest peak erupted. Lava spewed.

I looked for a trail but, thankfully, I didn’t see one. That tree line was dangerous.

“My Word is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from My sight, but all are naked and exposed to My eyes.”

Jesus.

I knelt down. Without turning around, I knew this was a holy moment.

“I am coming,” says the Lord. “There is a shaking coming, and I am not only going to sift—I am going to cut out the gangrene. This is a warning to the West (note: I could tell this was two-fold, it was a warning to the West in a Global sense, but also specifically the Western half of the United States): get your house in order and repent. You are a house divided. You have forgotten Me. But I declare:

‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with My Father, and the Word was My Father. I was in the beginning with My Father and all things were made through him, and without him nothing was created. In him was life, Me! and life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’”

I felt a strong wind begin to blow. I unsheathed my sword, drove it into the ground, and held onto the hilt with my head pressed against it.

I heard a rumble from the mountaintop. More lava, I thought. But when I looked up, I froze.

Standing at the pinnacle of the mountain was a dark figure. He was massive—he would have made Goliath seem like a child. He wore a leather skirt like those from the Roman era, crisscrossed leather bands across his chest, and a massive sword strapped to his back. His black, piercing eyes burned beneath jet-black hair that fell to his mid-back.

He laughed again, and the mountain spewed.

“I am here, my people!” he shouted. The ground shook again. I saw the earth begin to crack. “You have called upon me, and I am here. I am Mockery.”

He turned his dark gaze upon Jesus. “I am going to have so much fun with you this year!” he hissed, then laughed. “They will hate you when I am done.”

I didn’t dare turn around. I felt the stillness in the air, the bated breath of the earth.

 ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’” Jesus replied. 

“You are allowed your time,” Jesus said, “but I will remind you: ‘O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?’”

I kept my head on the hilt of my sword, but I had to smile. Mic drop!

He must have heard my smile—though how is that possible?

“Shut up!” he cried. “Do not mock me!”

I looked up into the black pits he called eyes. “Seriously?” I laughed. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Hypocrisy!”

I felt the hand of the Lord on my shoulder and sensed Him shake His head no.

“Quote My Word. He is sensitive and will cause chaos and confusion in your mind if you try to reason with him. He is not logical. He is offended, filled with hate, lust, and abomination. He is rabid. Now look at Me. Who am I?”

“You are the Light of the World,” I responded.

“Good.” And He turned my head forward to look straight ahead.

Another tree line. Thick and dark.

I heard the sound of water beyond the trees—waves, many waves. Thunder clapped. Blue and purple lightning flashed. Spirit beings were at war above the trees.

Again, no path. But I knew I was headed into that tree line.

I sighed. “No banquet for me.”

The Holy Spirit appeared beside me. “Why are you feeling sorry for yourself?”

“I’m tired,” I admitted. “There’s a new giant on Mount Doom over there, watchers faking the light and feeding people yummy things—and yes, I understand it’s a Hansel and Gretel situation in those woods—but for once, it would be nice to have a smooth path.”

“Smooth is not easy. Food is death. And the narrow path without Jesus leads to destruction. Get over yourself! Learn to thrive in hostile territory. Learn to pivot. Learn to see. Learn how to walk.”

Suddenly, I was pushed forward toward the woods and the waves. The ground shook from Mockery on the mountain. I dropped to my knees, dug my sword into the ground, and a shield rose around me.

Once the shaking stopped, I stood up to walk again, but he bellowed from his perch. Again, I dropped to my knees and drove my sword into the earth.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Jesus.

“Stay down. You must walk this on your knees. Keep your eyes on Me. My word is a lamp to your feet and a light to your path. Look up!”

In the trees, I began to see lanterns—seven in front of me: completion. Then five to my left lit up in the woods at the base of the mountain where Mockery lives: grace abounding.

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

I felt peace ease over me, but I shivered as I heard Jesus say, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. This is a turning point.”

Jesus looked me in the eye. “We are shifting into a new time in history. We are entering the year of man, at the same time as entering into My judgment. I will not be mocked. Hide My Word in your heart—you will need it. Know the truth: who I Am, the purpose of the cross, creation. Know Me. Anchor deep, and you will thrive.”