Something is happening. Can anyone else feel it?

An epiphany for Epiphany

I always found it exhaustive and cliché the way every charismatic church I ever attended would pray for a “revival.” This prayer seemed so relentless across both America and Britain for my entire life that it began to lose its meaning. If we are always waiting for “revival”, I thought, what are we saying about the present moment? Is it never good enough? Is God never moving in times of more steady, humble evangelism? Why must everything be a dramatic “revival” to be worthy?

But for the first time, I think I get it. At least a little. Because a global shift of the status quo is not only something I long for but something that is unfolding right before my eyes.

“It’s a Jubilee year,” my dear Catholic friend said to me in a voice note a few days ago. She is one of four women, all from different areas of my life, who have unanimously expressed a distinct, counterintuitive sense of hope for 2025.

At first, I was pleased but personally indifferent to the start of another year. Then, on January 2nd, God opened my eyes to the meaning behind a series of prophetic dreams I’d had three years ago. Dreams which are far too intense and detailed to recount here. At least, not yet. He’ll let me know when the time is right.

But needless to say, it feels as though my mere 31 years are drawing together into a purpose so clear and so true that I can hardly believe this story is mine. This magnetic pull that academia has held over me since I was a girl – a pull which has always felt indulgent and bourgeois – suddenly makes sense. A curtain of lies has been lifted, and I now see why Christians must occupy the elite spaces of Oxbridge and the Ivy League in a way that I couldn’t see before. What’s more, I see my role in the wider Kingdom, the wider story of things. And there’s a strange sense of calm and purpose and confidence which comes with such an epiphany.

Friend, it’s quite a profound experience to find yourself filled with delight at the sheer fact that you are His good creation. In the sincerest way possible, I really like myself, not out of vanity but out of awe for the One who made me. I am filled with utter excitement as I accept His invitation to step into my own story.

But with that excitement, a sobriety of mind accompanies me.

I don’t know where you are in your own story right now. I don’t know if 2024 was the year you lost a job, a dream, a loved one. I don’t know if it was the year that your health failed you or your closest people rejected you or you were overcome by depression and the world seemed black. I don’t know if my words are just acid in your wounds.

What I do know is this: I’ve been in the valley of the shadow of death. I will, no doubt, visit it again. And January 1st did not flip a switch to eradicate my struggles. My health, my dog’s health, and our sense of isolation has not suddenly been resolved. So please hear me when I say that these words are not coming from one who exists in a landscape of pure restoration and ease.

Many people I knew who once followed Him have walked away. The broken hypocrisy of the Evangelical West has saturated my generation in righteous anger, their stories playing out, over and over again, in a loop of bitter betrayal. My soul cries out for them like the blood-soaked ground cried out for Abel.

And yet…

While I see spectacular levels of sheer evil play out in headlines across the world and on my doorstep, behind the scenes, I am watching in live time as the Holy Spirit MOVES and people RESPOND.

Prayers are being answered faster than I’ve ever experienced in my life. Men who used to mock my faith are starting to get curious about church. I feel a renewed sense of purpose in my mission to “go and tell the world what He has done.” I am seeing people I’ve prayed for over many years come to faith while encountering the Spirit out of nowhere in the middle of a funeral. I am watching women who have long been downtrodden take fresh air into their lungs and chase the fullest joy this life can offer. I am feeling a boldness to speak the truth in compassion and love in a way which once would have terrified me. I am watching as Christians are being called into new arenas, empowered by the Spirit with the kind of courage and faith we read about in the book of Acts.

Weary Church, on this day of Epiphany, it is time to lift up your head.

Because something is happening.

Because old stories are being overturned.

Because the Lord is calling up His Remnant.

The wickedness of this world is not going unchecked.

Aslan, dear friends, is on the move.

The rumblings of war are rising again, but this is the year of Jubilee.

As I was walking my dog on January 2nd, I heard the faintest whisper while the ice crunched beneath my feet: I am going to fulfil my promises. For me, this meant many specific things. But for “us,” it means that the bugle of His Victory is already louder than the thrashing sounds of the enemy on the battle line.

We are His remnant. He is our God.

Those who have ears, let them hear. Those who choose hope, let it change them. Those who know Christ, rise.

It’s time for the year of Jubilee.

A Jubilee prayer from the Catholic Church of England and Wales:

Father in heaven,
may the faith you have given us
in your son, Jesus Christ, our brother,
and the flame of charity enkindled
in our hearts by the Holy Spirit,
reawaken in us the blessed hope
for the coming of your Kingdom.

May your grace transform us
into tireless cultivators of the seeds of the Gospel.
May those seeds transform from within both humanity and the whole cosmos
in the sure expectation
of a new heaven and a new earth,
when, with the powers of Evil vanquished,
your glory will shine eternally.

May the grace of the Jubilee
reawaken in us, Pilgrims of Hope,
a yearning for the treasures of heaven.
May that same grace spread
the joy and peace of our Redeemer
throughout the earth.
To you our God, eternally blessed,
be glory and praise for ever.

Amen

All my love,

In case you missed it:

If you haven’t heard me waffling about it yet, my writing course, Pick Up Your Sword, launches at the end of the month. It’s a course designed for anyone who has ever wanted to write a book about what God has done in their life, but they don’t know where to start. You can join my waitlist to find out more.

Also, ahead of the course, I’m hosting a live, interactive online workshop on January 20th to help you brainstorm the topic of your book OR just your general writing project like starting a blog or Substack. This 90-minute “writer’s room” style workshop is for anyone who feels like there’s a million and one things that they could write about and they have no idea how to narrow it down. It’s £12 admission (about $15 USD), but spaces will be limited, so register your interest now here.

Finally, for those of you writers who are looking at me like “yeah, that’s great, but I’m not in the market to write a book right now,” I’ve also just launched my 90-minute 1:1 Writer’s Audits, where we focus on developing your general creative writing practice and look at a piece of your work together. These calls are normally £75, but you can currently book one for 50% off when you join my course waitlist. So if you’re just looking for more personalised writing mentorship, The Writer’s Audit is perfect for you.

I can’t wait to see where God takes your writing in 2025. Bless you friends, and peace be with you.