Even after 40 years of fighting against you, even after all the people I killed who believed in you, even after all the hatred I carried in my heart.

Jesus smiled and wiped the tears from my face with his own hands, the scarred hands that had been pierced for me.

Especially after that, he said because when someone is forgiven much, they love much.

And I have special plans for you, Hassan.

I am going to send you back to your world.

I am going to use you to undo the damage you caused.

I am going to give you a chance to point people to the bridge before it is too late.

He helped me stand and pointed toward the bridge still stretching across the canyon.

One day soon you will walk across this bridge for good, he said.

But not yet.

First, I need you to go back.

I need you to tell the truth.

I need you to warn people about what is coming.

I need you to tell Muslims everywhere, especially in Lebanon and Iran, that they cannot save themselves, that jihad is a lie, that martyrdom does not lead to paradise, that Islam cannot bridge the gap, and that I am the only way across.

He paused, and his expression became more serious.

There is something urgent I must show you first, he said.

knows something about the year 2026 and what is coming for the leadership of Iran and for the whole Middle East.

Time is running out.

Hassan, the door of grace is closing.

Come with me.

Jesus took my hand again and we walked away from the canyon.

The landscape around us shifted and changed as we moved.

We came to a stop in front of something that made me gasp in wonder and fear.

It was a door, but unlike any door I had ever seen in my life.

This door was enormous, stretching upward so high that I could not see where it ended.

It disappeared into the golden sky above, reaching up infinitely.

The door was made of something that looked like crystal and gold woven together, materials that do not exist on Earth.

It sparkled and shimmerred with light that seemed to come from within the structure itself.

The door was the most magnificent thing I had ever witnessed, more glorious than any mosque or shrine I had ever visited, more beautiful than the Dome of the Rock or the Ka in Mecca.

But something about this door filled me with both wonder and deep dread.

The door was open, but not fully open.

It stood about 2/3 of the way open.

And as I watched carefully, paying close attention, I could see it moving slowly.

So slowly that you would miss it if you blinked.

The door was closing.

Inch by inch, moment by moment, it was shutting.

“What is this”?

I asked Jesus, my voice barely above a whisper.

I could not take my eyes off the slowly closing door.

Jesus looked at it and when I glanced at his face, I saw something that terrified me more than anything else I had witnessed.

He was crying.

The tears flowed freely down his face as he stared at the door.

His whole body seemed to carry a weight of sorrow that I could not fully understand.

“This is the door of grace,” he said, his voice heavy with grief.

Throughout human history, for 2,000 years since I rose from the dead, I have kept this door open wide.

I have invited everyone to come through it.

Every nation, every tribe, every religion, every single person.

I have called out to Muslims, to Hindus, to Buddhists, to atheists, to everyone.

I have said, “Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest”.

This door represents my grace extended to all of humanity.

As long as it remains open, anyone can come to me and be saved.

Anyone can walk through and enter into eternal life.

I stared at the door, watching it close so slowly.

For then, why is it closing?

I asked, though I was afraid of the answer.

My heart was pounding in my chest.

Jesus wiped his tears, but more immediately replaced them.

Because humanity has rejected me for too long, he said, his voice filled with pain.

Generation after generation has heard my call and refused it.

Nation after nation has been given the gospel and turned away.

I have sent prophets, teachers, evangelists, and missionaries into every corner of the world.

I have performed miracles and wonders.

I have knocked on the hearts of billions of people, calling them to come to me.

But most have chosen their own way.

They have chosen religion over a relationship with me.

They have chosen tradition over truth.

They have chosen pride over humility.

They have chosen sin over salvation.

They have preferred the darkness over the light.

And there comes a point, a specific moment appointed by my father in heaven when grace reaches its limit.

Not because I wanted to, but because the rebellion of humanity demands a response from a holy and just God.

He pointed at the door with a trembling hand.

This door will remain at its current position, 2/3 open through the end of the year 2026.

He said, “The year 2026 is the deadline, the final year of full grace before everything changes.

After December 31st, 2026, something will shift.

The door will close to halfway.

And after that point, it will become much harder for people to come to me”.

not impossible but much much harder.

The conviction of my Holy Spirit will be less strong.

The calling will be quieter.

The hearts of people will become more hardened.

Deception will increase dramatically.

And in the years following 2026, the door will keep closing little by little until one day it will shut completely.

And when it shuts entirely, grace will be finished.

There will be no more chances.

No more opportunities, no more invitations, only judgment.

I felt ice in my veins.

We were already in 2025.

The year 2026 was so close, less than 2 years away.

There was so little time left.

Why 2026?

I asked desperately.

What is special about that year?

Why is that the deadline?

Jesus looked at me with eyes that had seen the beginning of time and the end of all things.

There are seasons in history, he explained, times and moments appointed by my father in heaven before the foundation of the world.

Just as there was a specific time for the flood in Noah’s day, just as there was a specific time for the exodus from Egypt, just as there was a specific time for my first coming to earth, just as there was a specific time for my crucifixion and resurrection, there are appointed times for everything.

My father has set the times and seasons by his own authority and the end of 2026 has been appointed as the close of the full grace period.

It is the final year when the door stands wide open.

It is the last year when humanity will have every opportunity to repent and believe.

After 2026, the season changes.

The age of full grace ends and the age of judgment begins.

He waved his hand and suddenly we were no longer standing in front of the door.

We were floating high above the earth looking down at the planet like astronauts in space.

But this earth was not peaceful.

It was convulsing in chaos and violence.

While let me show you what is coming after 2026, Jesus said, his voice filled with sorrow.

I watched as terrible scenes unfolded below me.

visions of the future that made my blood run cold.

I saw wars breaking out across the Middle East, wars more devastating than anything the region had experienced before.

I saw armies marching, tanks rolling, missiles flying.

I saw Iran attacked by forces from multiple directions.

I saw cities in Iran burning, Thran itself engulfed in flames.

I saw the nuclear facilities at Natans and Foro destroyed by massive air strikes.

I saw the Iranian regime collapsing, the government falling, chaos spreading through the streets.

I saw the people of Iran rising up against their leaders, finally having enough of the oppression and lies.

I saw the revolutionary guard fighting in the streets, you know, trying to maintain control but being overwhelmed.

Then Jesus showed me something specific, something that made my heart stop.

He showed me Ali Kam, the supreme leader of Iran, the man who had funded Hezbollah for decades, the man who had sent weapons and money that I had used to fight and kill.

I saw him clearly, an old man in his robes and turban sitting in his office in Thran.

He looked afraid, his hands shaking as explosions rocked the city around him.

He was praying, calling out to Allah for protection, for deliverance, but his prayers went unanswered.

I watched as the building he was in took a direct hit from a missile.

The structure collapsed, and Ali Kamina died in the rubble, crushed beneath stone and concrete.

But his death was not the end.

I saw his soul leave his body just as mine had left my body in Beirut.

He rose up, looking down at his own corpse, confused and terrified.

He expected to see angels coming to take him to paradise.

He had been the supreme leader of the Islamic Republic.

He had led millions of Muslims.

He had spent his whole life devoted to Allah and to spreading Shia Islam.

Surely paradise awaited him.

But instead of angels, I watched in horror as he was pulled downward, not upward.

He fought against it, screaming verses from the Quran, declaring the shahada, calling on Muhammad and the imams to save him.

But nothing could stop his descent.

He fell into the same darkness I had seen at the bottom of the canyon, the place of eternal torment and separation from God.

His screams joined the chorus of billions of others who had rejected Jesus and trusted in their own works.

I watched the man who had funded 40 years of terrorism.

The man who had sent weapons that killed thousands.

The man who had oppressed his own people in the name of Islam fall into judgment.

There was no mercy for him.

He had rejected the bridge.

He had rejected Jesus.

He had led an entire nation astray.

And now he would pay the price forever.

No, I whispered.

Though I did not feel pity for him, I felt horror at the justice of God.

Jesus turned to me, his face serious.

Ali Kam will die in late 2026 or early 2027.

He said his death will mark the beginning of the end for the Islamic Republic of Iran.

Everything Iran has built, all its proxy forces in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen, all of it will crumble rapidly.

Hezbollah will be destroyed.

The Revolutionary Guard will be scattered.

Iran’s influence in the region will collapse.

and millions who followed them, who trusted in their teachings, who believed their promises of paradise through martyrdom will fall into the same darkness he fell into.

I watched as the vision continued.

I saw Hezbollah strongholds in Lebanon destroyed by Israeli air strikes.

I saw the Dahier suburbs of Beirut, where I had died, reduced to rubble.

I saw Hezbollah fighters trying to resist but being overwhelmed by superior forces.

I saw the weapons tunnels discovered and destroyed.

I saw the leadership hunted down and killed one by one.

I saw young fighters I had trained, boys who had believed my teachings dying in battle and falling into the abyss instead of rising to paradise.

Everything we had built over 40 years was being torn down, and the people who had trusted us were being lost forever.

Then Jesus showed me natural disasters hitting the Middle East and the world.

I saw earthquakes unlike anything in recorded history.

I watched as a massive earthquake struck along the Dead Sea fault line, destroying cities in Israel, Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon.

Buildings collapsed like houses of cards.

The death toll reached into the millions.

I saw Mount Damavand in Iran, a dormant volcano, suddenly erupt with devastating force, covering Thran and the surrounding areas in ash and lava.

I saw tsunamis rising from the Mediterranean Sea and the Persian Gulf, waves hundreds of feet high crashing onto coastlines and wiping away everything in their path.

I saw famines spreading across the region as crops failed and water sources dried up.

I saw the Euphrates River mentioned in Islamic prophecy completely dry up just as the Bible predicted.

I saw people starving in the streets, fighting over scraps of food, killing each other for water.

I saw diseases, new plagues that medicine could not cure, spreading rapidly through populations.

Hospitals overflowed with the sick and dying.

Bodies piled up in the streets faster than they could be buried.

And through it all, I heard the cries of millions asking why this was happening.

Begging Allah for help that never came.

I saw persecution of Christians reaching levels never before witnessed.

I watched as Muslim governments, including what remained of Iran’s regime, arrested and executed believers.

I saw churches burned, Bibles thrown into fires, pastors beheaded in public squares.

I saw families torn apart, children taken from Christian parents and forced into Islamic education.

But I also saw the faith of these believers, their refusal to deny Jesus even when facing death.

I saw them singing hymns as they were led to execution.

I saw them forgiving their killers with their final breaths.

I saw their courage and their absolute certainty that they would cross the bridge to paradise.

And I saw Jesus himself standing beside them in their suffering, invisible to their persecutors, but visible to them, giving them strength to endure.

Then I saw something that terrified me more than all the physical destruction.

I saw massive spiritual deception sweeping across the Muslim world.

I saw new leaders rising up, charismatic men claiming to have special revelation from Allah.

I saw them performing signs and wonders, miracles that convinced millions they were sent from God.

But Jesus showed me the truth.

These men were servants of Satan, empowered by demonic forces, sent to lead people away from the narrow road and onto the wide road that leads to destruction.

I saw one figure in particular, a man who rose to power claiming to be the Mai, the hidden Imam that Shia Muslims believe will appear at the end of times to establish justice and Islamic rule over the world.

Millions of Muslims, including many from Iran and Lebanon, believed him.

They followed him with absolute devotion.

He performed miracles, called down fire from heaven, healed the sick, and spoke with authority that captivated entire nations.

But Jesus revealed to me that this man was not the Mai.

He was a false messiah empowered by Satan leading billions toward hell.

I watched in horror as people I knew, people from my own family, people from Hezbollah, he followed this deceiver.

They rejected Jesus and embraced the lie.

And when they died, they fell into the abyss, screaming in betrayal, as they realized too late that they had been deceived.

“Please,” I beg Jesus, closing my eyes against the horror.

“I cannot watch anymore.

This is too terrible.

Too much death, too much suffering, too much deception”.

The vision stopped immediately.

We were standing in front of the door of grace again.

It had closed a bit more while we were gone.

Jesus placed his hand on my shoulder and I felt his strength flow into me.

“What you saw cannot be stopped, Hassan,” he said firmly.

“These things must happen.

They were written long ago in the prophecies.

The rebellion of humanity must reach its full measure and then judgment must come.

But right now, today, people can still choose me.

They can still walk through this door while it remains open.

That is why I am sending you back.

Not to stop what is coming because it cannot be stopped.

But to warn people, to give them one final chance to come to me before the door closes too far and before the terrible events of 2026 and beyond begin.

He looked directly into my eyes with an intensity that made me feel like he could see into the deepest parts of my soul.

Especially your people, Hassan, he continued, especially the Muslims of Lebanon and Iran.

They have been deceived for,400 years.

They have been taught that I am only a prophet, nothing more than a messenger who came before Muhammad.

They have been told that my death on the cross never happened, that it was just an illusion.

They have been led to believe that good works and jihad can save them, that martyrdom guarantees paradise.

But you know the truth now.

You have seen the canyon they cannot cross on their own.

You have seen the bridge I became through my death and resurrection.

You have seen the door that is closing.

You have seen what is coming for Iran and for Ali Kam.

You must go back and tell them.

You must spend every moment you have left, warning everyone you can reach before it is too late.

I looked at the door one more time, watching it slowly close, knowing that millions of my people were running out of time.

I thought about my wife Fatima, my children, my grandchildren, my brothers in Hezbollah, the fighters I had trained, the families in South Lebanon who had trusted me and followed my teachings.

They were all on the wrong path.

All heading toward the cliff.

All building bridges that would collapse.

He I will tell them, I said, my voice firm despite the tears still on my face.

I will tell them about the bridge.

I will tell them about you.

I will tell them that jihad is a lie and martyrdom does not lead to paradise.

I will tell them about 2026 and the door that is closing.

I will warn them about what is coming for Iran and its leaders.

Jesus smiled and his smile filled me with warmth and purpose.

Tell them I love them, he said, his voice gentle but urgent.

Tell them I died for them.

for every Lebanese fighter, for every Iranian revolutionary guard officer, for every suicide bomber, for every person who has killed in the name of Allah.

Tell them my blood can wash away even the blood on their hands.

Tell them I am waiting with open arms, ready to forgive and embrace anyone who comes to me.

Tell them not to wait another day in not even another hour.

Tell them that 2026 is the deadline, the last year of full grace.

Tell them to choose me now, today, this very moment, before the shaking begins and before the door closes too far.

He paused and his expression became even more serious.

Tell them about Ali Kam’s fate.

Tell them what awaits the Supreme Leader and all who follow his path.

Tell them that Iran’s power will crumble, that Hezbollah will fall, that everything they have built on the foundation of lies will collapse, and tell them that the only safe place when that collapse comes is in my arms, standing on the firm foundation of my sacrifice.

The light around us began to grow brighter and brighter until I could see nothing else but brilliant white light surrounding me from every direction.

I felt myself being pulled backward and away from that beautiful place, away from Jesus.

But his voice echoed through the light, strong and clear, reaching into my very soul.

Remember everything, Hassan.

Remember the canyon and the bridge.

Remember the door and the year 2026.

Remember what I showed you about Iran and its leader.

Remember that I love you and that I will be with you always, even to the end of the age.

Go now and tell them.

Time is running out.

The door is closing.

Tell them to choose me before it is too late.

The light became so intense that it felt like fire, but it did not burn.

I felt myself falling, not into darkness like I had feared, but falling back into my body, back into the world of pain and limitation, back into Beirut, where I had died on the street.

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