Cast Down From the High Places

By Charlie Johnston

Laurel, Maryland – Monday and Tuesday of this week were challenging…and rewarding. On Monday I went to pray at Our Lady Star of the Sea Church in Solomon’s Island, Maryland. It sits right on a beautiful segment of the Chesapeake Bay. Turning left into the parking lot, I stupidly allowed myself to be distracted by the beauty of the bay – and ran over a high curb, gashing a large hole in my front passenger tire. I had just replaced all my tires three weeks ago, after tooling along for over two years on the same set.

I pulled into a parking spot off road and began the laborious task of trying to take the dead tire off and put the donut spare on so I could get to a tire store. I confirmed what I had long suspected: changing a tire when you are almost 70 is an entirely different thing from changing a tire when you were 45. Fortunately, a lovely woman named Gladys, who it turns out had been a Parish volunteer for 25 years, spotted me struggling, and came out to see how she could help. There was not much to be done, as it is pretty much a one-man job. But after watching me struggle awkwardly with what was once a simple, physical task, she insisted that I step back, for she had her husband on the way to help.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, her husband Eric showed up and took charge. He had a much better jack than I did. Within about 10 minutes he had the job finished. I asked if I could give them money for dinner (it was a travel day for me, so I could not stick around) but they were having none of it. The pastor, a handsome man in his 30’s, I think, showed up and we exchanged greetings. His face was a good one, radiating warmth. He and Gladys had an errand to take care of so they left. I asked Eric if I could take his picture and explained what it was for – and he graciously agreed. It appears at the bottom of this article. I actually had gone into the Church to pray before I started trying to take care of the tire, so when we were done, I used GPS to find the nearest tire place where I could get a replacement tire.

There were actually two tire shops right across from each other. I chose the one, Tires Plus, to my left. I intended just to get a comparable tire, as I plan to retire my old Subaru after this tour is finished sometime late this spring. (At 350,000 miles on a four-cylinder engine, I think old Bessie has earned her retirement). The cheery counterman asked my phone number. I was startled when he responded to me by name. I thought, after the last four years, the Deep State had finally found me in its death throes. Turns out, Tires Plus is an affiliate of Firestone, where I got the replacement tires three weeks earlier – and they have an integrated customer computer base nationwide. He looked to see if he had that particular tire. He did! But he had just one of the same type and size. I reckon God, with His wry sense of humor, had gently prompted me to turn left – where He and Tires Plus had the just-right tire waiting for me. I felt like Goldilocks.

The cashier looked kind of like one of my nephews. I was pleased because they had quickly gotten me in and the work done. When I asked him how much I owed, he said, with an amused smile, “All of it.” That was the sort of thing my nephew might say, so I laughed out loud. With a big grin, he told me he was glad – because some folks get offended when he says that. I laughed and said I don’t often get offended, and that his response had evoked thoughts of my nephew, who I regard highly. Then I was off. I may be wrong, but it feels like the car rides smoother with this tire. So I had a frustrating interruption to my day and, in exchange, met some wonderfully kind people of good cheer and good will. What’s not to like?

But wait, there’s more! On Tuesday evening I had an appointment in Laurel, a suburb in the Baltimore-Washington D.C. area. Unfortunately, they had a moderately heavy snowstorm (just three or four inches). No biggie, I added five minutes to my travel time. What I had not accounted for was that, apparently, the state of Maryland has a total of three snowplows they pass around to each other. At least an hour and a half into the storm, not a single road had been plowed. Even the Interstate had not been plowed yet – and I have never seen that before. I was thankful for the brand-spanking new tires while plowing through the very slushy roads. I called my appointment to let him know I would be late. Thankfully, I was just 15 minutes late.

I know some folks attribute every setback or problem to the devil. I know very well that my plans and God’s plans are, by no means, synonymous. I am much more likely to attribute a setback or problem to God redirecting my course. He doesn’t tell me His purpose in such cases, but I know He has His reasons. I also know it could NOT have been the devil…for the devil would never want to prompt me to meet such good-hearted people who chose to live solidarity with me, a complete stranger. Life is a series of small adventures. How glorious it is and how lucky we are to live them!

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I don’t give public prophecies on the future anymore. After my prophecy that failed by describing rescue as an event, rather than a process, my Archbishop directed me not to do so anymore. Frankly, that suited my personal preferences. Oh, I’m still free to offer the sort of prognostication that I always did in media and for political clients. Just no public future prophecy. That suits me as people have all sorts of silly, idiosyncratic ideas of what prophecy legitimately is – and is not.

I’ve had people tell me you can always tell a true prophet because they are never wrong. I wonder if those people have ever even read the Old Testament with any depth of contemplation, for that rule would disqualify every Old Testament Prophet except Isaiah. Then there are those prophecies which seem wrong at first and then come to pass in a way no one, including the prophet, expected. Not to mention those that are conditional, such as Jonah’s prophecy against Nineveh. God spared Nineveh after its people repented, in response to Jonah’s prophecy. Frankly, a “prophet” who never errs is usually the devil’s man and only speaks of small things in the sight of eternity – to give himself credibility as he muddies the water. In what was effectively a brutal commentary against our own perverse pride, Jonah actually sulked after God’s mercy to Nineveh because the Almighty had NOT destroyed them, thus potentially making Jonah seem to be a false prophet. How many of us would rather something stupid or mean we say be right than to keep searching for what actually is right? Vanity of vanities!

My default setting is to say what I think and let the chips fall where they may. Any claim of mysticism could be a delusion…or a way in which certain peculiar minds process deep insights. If profound mystical insights are authentic in a particular person, you better believe that the devil is working overtime to try to fool him, as well. Privately, I hold people who claim perfect discernment, always knowing what is from God and what is not, in deep contempt. That is to claim that you are already a greater saint than Padre Pio, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, or the many other saints who acknowledged they were fooled by the devil sometimes. Anyone who says they can’t be fooled by the devil already has been. Discernment and interpretation are the most difficult things I have ever dealt with.

So, I enjoyed the days when I would wow people by saying completely out-of-the box things that eventually came to pass. My errors were lumped in, like everyone else’s, as part of my humanity – and people acknowledged that I made significantly fewer than most. It’s a comfort zone I like a lot…and is aligned with my directive, from heaven as I believe, to take full responsibility for everything I say, wherever I think it comes from, and correct my inevitable errors as soon as I am aware of them. Thus, it matters little to me what anyone thinks of my mystical claims. Truth will stand the test of examination…and either I get things right or I don’t. There has been some of both. But it is important, I think, that you know I take them seriously and they play a big role in my analyses. But all you need to judge is the objective quality of the analysis.

That said, many people ask me if I am still receiving visitations and visions. Nothing has changed, except that I only share those about the future with my director Priests and, occasionally, a close friend or two.

Since it is no longer about the future, I am going to share a few particulars from a peculiar visitation I had in September of 2023. I think it has profound significance to what is happening right now. It played out episodically over a week and a half in New Mexico, Arizona, and Nevada. All of this (and more) was shared at the time with my director Priests.

I was told that the persecution of those of orthodox Judeo-Christian faith was not what it seemed. Rather, God was gathering godless elitists together into their high cultural places, isolating them from ordinary people. He was allowing their already hardened hearts against ordinary people to harden further into near open contempt. He was doing this to cause them to self-segregate and self-isolate from regular folks, so those normies would not be seriously harmed when He cast the elitists suddenly forcefully down from their high places. Then I was directed to drive towards a mountain (not in a vision, but a real mountain in New Mexico). As I did, a great, dark storm formed at the top of the mountain. It obscured the top of the mountain. Lightning flashed constantly from within that darkness. But, amazingly, it only covered the top tenth of the mountain. The rest of it was covered in sunlight. It was an astonishing sight. I thought about this.

In Arizona, I was driving in semi-mountainous country far from any town. I asked what would be the end of those who were caught in that great storm in the high places. I was told that all were invited to repent, but I would be shown the end of those who persisted in their arrogant vanity. Then I was directed to pull off at an exit and drive along a particular, twisting route in big hills in the middle of nowhere. My angel told me, “Here you will see.” As I pulled around the next curve in the hills, there before me was a vast cemetery…I mean a really big one…right in the middle of nowhere. I felt an intense forlornness, for it felt like all the people here were completely forgotten. I stopped and looked for a while in silence, then made my way back to the interstate and contemplated it.

I was told, near the end, that those of good will would get wet from the storm, but would not perish so long as they trusted and walked upright before the Lord. (Remember, I have almost always interpreted “perish” to mean losing eternal salvation, not physical life). I was in Las Vegas then, getting ready to go to a dinner with a bunch of folks, when a rare heavy rainstorm broke out. On the radio they were talking about which roads were flooded and closed. There was only one possible route to my dinner. Then the radio warned that there was danger of a washout on the road I was on so, though it was not formally closed yet, it should be avoided. I was thinking of calling and cancelling and turning back. My angel said one word. “Trust.” So I plowed ahead. There was one seriously dicey spot, but I got through it okay and got to the dinner with about 15-20 people. It was a wonderful evening. After dinner, when I left, the flooding had already receded dramatically. Again, I contemplated.

I often say that both faith and trust are acts of the will. My dinner in Las Vegas seemed more confirmation for that certainty.

This is also why I have been saying for some time that the power of darkness has been broken. The vandals in this generation will never again occupy the high places they so cherish. Yes, there is plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth by those being cast down. But the only thing that will give them relief is repentance. Otherwise, for all their flailing, their end will be the same. Again, I sent a very brief summation of this to my Priests on September 19, 2023…and then I discussed it at more length with several of them by phone afterwards.

But this is not the end of troubles, not by a long shot. We must gird our loins and give witness to the world to bring it back to God. But I do not believe we will lose a single battle we prosecute with vigor anymore…provided that we do not lose heart.

I thought you should know on what basis I insist, with such confidence, that the power of darkness is broken. But we must persist. Under the old-world title of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Mother evangelized the New World when the missionaries had failed – and had even abused some of the natives. (Contrary to ignorant popular myth, the Catholic Church did NOT approve of or countenance that. In fact, in an ecclesiastical letter in 1537, Pastorale Officium, Pope Paul III imposed automatic excommunication on any who enslaved indigenous American natives. A few days later, he issued the Papal Bull, Sublimis Deus, which forbade the enslavement of indigenous peoples anywhere they might be found.) Now, under the American title, Our Lady of Tepeyac, I believe Our Mother intends to re-evangelize the Old World from the New. And we are to be her heralds. Contemplate, sometime, the substantial connections between Our Lady of Tepeyac (Guadalupe) and Our Lady the Immaculate Conception. If we do our work properly as heralds, we have begun the road to the Triumph of the Immaculate Heart. We better get our act together and get to work, rather than sitting on our laurels.

If communication goes out for any length of time, meet outside your local Church at 9 a.m. on Saturday mornings. Tell friends at Church now in case you can’t then. CORAC teams will be out looking for people to gather in and work with.

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