PORTERVILLE POST | The Right News at the Right Time

| The Road to Rediscovering America’s Identity ~ XXVIII
BORN RIGHT^© - Oct 10, 2025
with Josh Allen Flowers : josh@portervillepost.com

OCTOBER REVERENCE ~ The Month America Once Stood Still ~
October used to mean something.
Not just pumpkin spice and political mailers. Not just costume clearance racks and playoff baseball. October used to carry weight — a sense of stillness, reverence, and preparation.
It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud. It was the in-between.
Between the rush of summer and the celebration of Thanksgiving.
Between the sowing and the reaping.
Between the heat of labor and the rest of gratitude.

October was where Americans paused.
We gathered. We prayed. We reflected. We closed the gates for winter, not just on our land, but in our hearts. We talked a little softer. Thought a little deeper. Sat around fire pits and dinner tables instead of glowing screens and echo chambers.
It was a time to remember who we were before the world sped up. Before algorithms knew us better than our neighbors. Before candy corn replaced contemplation. And if you didn’t grow up with that version of October, I have bad news:
You’ve been robbed.

October Was Once About Alignment, Not Escape There’s something built into the season — you can feel it.

The air cools. The sky sharpens. The leaves let go. Nature itself enters a holy hush. But what does modern man do? We crank up the volume.
● Haunted houses.
● Horror flicks.
● Doomsday politics.
● Screaming deals.
● Constant scrolling.

The soul tries to whisper, “Slow down.” And the world responds with: “Vote harder. Buy more. Be afraid.” See, in America’s younger days, October was the soul’s sabbath — not a month of fear, but of fortifying.
It was post-harvest humility. A time when families stacked wood, gathered food, stored up for winter — and thanked God they made it through another year.
Now? It’s just another monetized mood. We don’t look at the stars in October. We look at our phones and wonder why we’re empty. We traded reverence for rituals.

A Culture Obsessed With Noise Hates Stillness Stillness is dangerous to the modern machine. Because in stillness… you might think.

You might remember. You might hear something real. October used to invite that stillness. But stillness doesn't sell. Stillness doesn't click. Stillness doesn’t cast votes in a panic. So instead, they fill October with fear — both literally (Halloween) and politically (election panic, mail-in hysteria, ad blitzes).
It’s strategic. Keep the people overstimulated and underanchored. Distract them with monsters so they don’t notice the devils in D.C.

Return to the Porchlight Gospel But there’s a better way. A truer way. It starts on the porch. Literally.

Remember when porch lights weren’t just for trick-or-treaters? They were a signal of safety. A place where neighbors waved. Talked. Borrowed sugar. Shared sorrow. October was a porchlight month. Cool evenings, firewood smoke, coffee mugs, and quiet talk about real things:

1. What’s God been teaching you lately?
2. What are you praying for this winter?
3. How can we help the Johnsons with that barn repair?

Not content. Not campaigns. Connection. We have to reclaim that. Because no revival ever started with dopamine hits and TikTok dances. It starts with neighborliness. With local reverence. With the porchlight gospel of simple, faithful living.

The Month Before the Awakening October is not the revolution. It’s the tilling.

It’s the clearing of the land. Before seeds of revival are sown, God often breaks the ground — cuts the brush, burns the dead branches. That’s what October was meant for. Spiritual inventory. Cultural pruning. Preparing the soul’s soil for deeper things.
Which is exactly why the modern world fights to make October busy, noisy, and scary. If they can keep us distracted in the harvest… They can make sure nothing gets planted for spring.

Love, Godliness, and the Sacred Rhythm of October What if we reclaimed October for what it once was?

1. A holy hush before the chaos of the holidays.
2. A marriage month, where people wed before winter, knowing love was better than loneliness.
3. A storytelling season, where elders passed down family history instead of streaming remakes of movies with no plot and too much profanity.
4. A time of reconciliation, when you forgave before the first snow fell.
5. A window to God, when the rustling leaves reminded you of Eden, and the dying grass reminded you to number your days.

This isn’t nostalgia. It’s medicine. We don’t need more content. We need more consecration. We don’t need another sale. We need another Sabbath. And that starts now.

A New October Declaration Let’s make October holy again. Let it be the month we:

● Call the neighbor we argued with.
● Invite a young couple over for soup and conversation.
● Turn the phone off by 8pm.
● Sit with the Bible and listen.
● Take the kids to rake leaves at grandma’s house.
● Share a story from when America still made sense.
Let’s make it the soft start of the Third Great Awakening. Not loud. Not viral. Just faithful.

The Stillness Before the Storm October teaches us how to live in the gap:

▒ Between harvest and hunger.
▒ Between decision and consequence.
▒ Between man’s plans and God’s providence.

We’ve tried fear. We’ve tried noise. We’ve tried outrage. Let’s try reverence again. Let’s remember what this country used to do when the leaves began to fall. It stood still. It gave thanks. It turned back toward home. Maybe it’s time we did too.

What you are not changing, you are choosing.