The battle takes one and leaves another. Go home and refresh yourself. The battle is not yours. Your vicar knows me and we have talked. He knows me as redeemer, and has asked for redemption for Austria. How long did you think that you could eat curds and remain untouched? Skiing and climbing are good, but now that the belly has convulsed and pangs on the earth grow sharper, there is no hiding place for you. The stones in your streets have seen the machines of war, but now the rabble is at the gate. Is there a prophet in the land? Is there a man to whom you may go? You must seek out an assembly. These are people who are peculiar, and who do not match your sense of decorum. I tell you that the decorum of heaven is not what you think or imagine, for it is written, “Eye has not seen nor ear heard, neither has entered into the heart of man what God has prepared for those who love him, but he has revealed them unto us by the Spirit that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God.” I have Spirit men and women who will speak to you, reveal dark sayings and give wisdom from on high. Seek them out, for much hangs in the balance.
Put your head together with Heinz, and prepare for war. You did not choose this hour or day, and if the watchman had known at what hour the enemy was coming he would not have been caught unawares. It is written, “when the enemy comes in like a flood the Lord will raise up a standard against him.” Your battle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, powers, rulers of the darkness of this world and spiritual wickedness in high places. If you will study to show yourself approved, eschew naysayers and sycophants, approach me with contrition… children will then lead you. I mean to give you freedom by lambs. I mean to confound the wise with the foolish ones. Can a nation turn in a day from a cancer? The ancient wisdom has lain in repose for too long. It has been enshrined in tradition and symbol for too long. Your ancestors knew my ancient ways, for I was known to them as the Ancient of Days. Look at your borders. They are as porous as sieves. How can man’s compassion restrain the tide? But I have prepared a sponge, dipped in oil and I offer it to you. Let your face be bathed in oil so that it may shine. Let your heart be softened so that it may beat. Let your mind be renewed so that you may absorb the Kingdom of heaven, and prepare a coronation anew for the King of Kings. It is your only true refuge, and is the only true city for refugees.