A "77" Hanukkah Warning
Dreams and Visions Converging?
The Darkest Day of the Year
Next Sunday, as the eighth candle of Hanukkah is prepared to be lit, the world will pass through the darkest day of the year—the winter solstice.
Darkness will linger longer than usual, shadows stretching across streets, homes, and hearts alike. In ancient times, such days were charged with portent: a time to watch, to listen, to question.
This year, darkness will again whisper an age-old question familiar to those who follow The Bible Calendar.
If we don’t see anything on December 21, turn your attention to February 8, 2026.
77 Years, 7 months, 7 weeks, 7 days.
The Feast of Dedication
Long ago, in the land of Judea, a resolute people lived small in number but mighty in spirit under the shadow of a conquering empire. The Seleucid Greeks ruled the land, and at first, life continued much as before. But slowly, the rulers demanded more than taxes—they demanded sameness.
Jewish practices were banned.
Torah was forbidden.
The Temple in Jerusalem, the heart of Jewish life, was defiled.
For the people of Judea, this was more than oppression—it was a threat to identity itself. And as it always does in dark times, the question arose:
Who will save us?
Many expected rescue from the powerful—a king, an army, or a miraculous intervention. But salvation did not arrive on horseback. It began quietly.
In the village of Modi’in, an aging priest named Mattathias refused to abandon his faith. After his death, his son Judah Maccabee (“the Hammer”), took up the cause. In 167 BCE, ordinary people—farmers, teachers, neighbors—joined him.
They were outnumbered, out-trained, and out-armed. Yet they fought anyway—not because victory was certain, but because surrender meant losing who they were. Battle after battle, they defied expectation.
Eventually, they reclaimed Jerusalem and purified the Temple. When they went to relight the menorah, there was only enough oil to burn for one day.
They lit it anyway!
Tradition says a single day’s oil burned for eight—long enough to prepare more. The menorah’s light shone not only as a miracle of oil, but as a testament to courage and faith in dark times.
Hanukkah—meaning “dedication” in Hebrew—marks the rededication of the Temple and the miracle of the menorah, giving rise to its names: the Festival of Dedication and the Festival of Lights.
Hanukkah teaches us that true courage begins before rescue arrives.
Jesus at Hanukkah
Centuries later, that same question echoed in Jerusalem.
It was winter, and the Festival of Dedication—Hanukkah—was being celebrated. Lamps burned in homes and streets, recalling the reclaimed Temple and the miracle of light. People gathered at the Temple complex, just as their ancestors had after the Maccabean victory.
And there, walking in Solomon’s Portico, was Jesus of Nazareth. The Gospel of John notes it plainly:
“At that time the Feast of Dedication took place at Jerusalem. It was winter.”
—John 10:22
The timing is no accident. Hanukkah presses the same question it always has:
Who will save us?
The people surrounded him and demanded, “If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” They expected power, revolt, a deliverer like Judah Maccabee.
My Sheep Hear My Voice
Jesus answered differently. He spoke of sheep and a good shepherd—of a voice to hear and follow, and of the danger of listening to the wrong voices:
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.
A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.”
—John 10:27, 5
Standing amid Hanukkah lights, Jesus drew a line between false rescue and true salvation. One is imposed from the outside; the other is recognized, trusted, and followed from within.
For those today who already know Jesus as Messiah, the age-old question was answered two millennia ago when He rose from the dead—the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. He is alive, and His voice can still be heard today!
And yet, many still listen to other voices.
Many still trust the voice of strangers.
This week, as candles are lit and the ancient miracle story is remembered, the question sharpens: Which voice are we following—and which voices must we refuse?
A Call for Discernment
Before going any further, I share what follows with care—not as instruction or prediction, and certainly not as financial advice, but as a call to discernment. Pray about what may be coming. Weigh it carefully. Take responsibility for your own actions.
If Hanukkah teaches us anything, it is this: faithful action often precedes certainty. The Maccabees did not wait for guarantees. The menorah was lit before the oil was sufficient. Courage was chosen while the outcome was still unknown.
What follows is not a declaration of what will happen, but an invitation to consider what could. Read it prayerfully. Hold it loosely. Test it against Scripture, wisdom, and the voice you follow.
Imagine a Sunday like this.
The Eighth Candle Approaches
For most Christians, the eight-day Feast of Dedication that Jesus Himself celebrated this time of year—Hanukkah—is largely forgotten.
On Sunday, December 21, many sitting in churches around the world will have no idea that Hanukkah is unfolding—that the eighth candle is about to be lit, or that the world is passing through its darkest day of the year.
Sermons are preached. Songs are sung. Prayers are lifted. And yet, few realize that evening will mark the final night of Hanukkah. In many homes, faithful families will quietly light the last candle. As the flames flicker in the darkness, they will remember the courage of the Maccabees, the miracle of the oil, and the truth that faith is chosen before rescue is visible.
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the ancient question rises again:
Who will save us?
Before the question is ever asked, shock grips the unaware. By Monday morning, markets convulse. Screens glow red. Assets once considered safe falter. Metals dip. Crypto buckles. Confidence evaporates. Leaders scramble.
Panic moves faster than reason.
For many sitting in the pews, the realization is sudden and jarring. The peace they assumed gives way to the fragility of the systems they trusted.
On this darkest day of the year—the Sunday before Christmas—will there be peace on earth?
A Watchman’s Warning
Whether events unfold exactly this way matters less than the posture they reveal. The hour calls for vigilance, clarity, and discernment.
Jesus warned that deception, not fear, is the real danger (Matthew 24). Calm voices will rise, solutions will appear convincing, and figures will promise rescue, stability, and peace. Discernment is your safeguard, especially during the Feast of Dedication (John 10) and the critical days that follow.
This is the warning: when upheaval comes—if a knight rides in on a white horse to save the day—do not be deceived by spectacle or false certainty. Test every voice, measure every message against Scripture, and follow only the One who shepherds with truth and life. Not every white horse brings salvation; not every solution is righteous (Revelation 6).
If darkness builds during the Festival of Lights until it reaches The Tipping Point—if fear suddenly surges and relief comes too quickly—be careful which voices you follow. Do not mistake confidence for truth, stabilization for salvation, or spectacle for guidance.
Discernment matters most when the answer looks convincing. Discernment does not rush—but it does not delay when truth becomes clear.
Light for the Days Ahead
As a watchman on the wall, I share what God has entrusted to me—not to provoke fear, but to equip His people. Over the past six years, beginning in 2020, I have carried, tested, and prayed over dreams and impressions. This week, during Hanukkah, I will release some of them carefully, one by one.
Each day, another piece of light:
1) Hanukah Warning (December 2025)
2) A Manufactured Crash (August 2020)
3) Sunday, Monday, Tuesday (December 2021, 2022, 2024)
4) Chunky Gal #77 (May 2025)
5) Government Gate #77 (July 2025)
6) This is the Time (2020)
7) Book 77 (July 2024)
Note that while I am releasing these words this week—and pointing towards a specific date when everything might collide—none of the above dreams, words, or visions came with a date attached.
The speculation about the darkest day of the year is mine alone.
Moreover, these are not instructions to react in panic, nor guarantees of specific outcomes. They are tools for discernment—how to pray, how to listen, and how to act wisely before the darkness deepens. Hanukkah reminds us that light, understanding, and courage unfold gradually—not all at once.
I invite you to follow along, prayerfully. Test everything against Scripture. Listen for the voice that leads to life, and avoid those that lead to ruin.
The candles will be lit one by one.
At some point this week, faith may be required. Courage may be necessary before the reason for rescue is visible. The window of opportunity often opens before a collapse unfolds—and closes before a rapid reset follows.
Pray.
Listen.
Move.
This is the time.
P.S. Interestingly, back in 2020, I was given a prophetic word specifically about the winter solstice. However, I am not sharing it now, because pieces are not currently in place to unfold as I originally saw it. All that to say—if we don’t see something this year on December 21, stay vigilant in the years to come because there will be an occult ritual to bring us into The Darkest Winter at some point.
I’m Gr8ful.
So good❤️🙏🙌