Beginning around 2017, I sense in my spirit that something was changing America, at least I thought it had changed, but today I realized that history was about to repeat itself in ways that would be mind-boggling.
As the months unfolded, subtle currents beneath the surface gained momentum, stirring echoes of bygone eras within the national consciousness. Watching familiar patterns emerge—shifts in discourse, a collective restlessness, even a strange déjà vu in public life—I found myself both fascinated and uneasy. It became clear that the undercurrents I sensed were not mere ripples of change but tidal forces gathering to sweep us into a future strangely reminiscent of our past, inviting both awe and caution as history poised itself to dance once again on the American stage.
In conversations with friends and strangers alike, I noticed how the language of possibility and warning began to thread itself through daily life—a quiet anticipation, equal parts hope and apprehension, humming beneath the ordinary routines. The pulse of uncertainty mingled with flashes of inspiration, as old truths reemerged in unexpected guises and new voices echoed with the resonance of ages past. It was as if the nation stood at a crossroads illuminated by the flickering lanterns of its own memory, compelled to choose whether to learn from its former selves or retrace the well-worn steps of previous generations. Exhilaration and anxiety became companions, both urging us to remain vigilant as America edged ever closer to the threshold where the future and the past entwine, inseparable and inevitable.
For years, I watched as subtle tremors—political, cultural, even spiritual—shook the foundation of daily life, transforming familiar landscapes into something uncanny and new. What I first perceived as progress soon revealed itself as a cyclical return, a revival of old conflicts and aspirations masquerading as fresh challenges. The nation seemed to be caught in a paradox: striving for innovation while haunted by the shadows of its own past. Each headline, every conversation felt charged with the electricity of anticipation, threaded through with the unresolved echoes of earlier eras. In this strange twilight, I understood that the lines between transformation and repetition are often blurred—that to move forward, we are sometimes compelled to revisit the crossroads we thought we had long since left behind.
Minister A Francine Green
August 2025
afrancinegreen.com 