There I was, standing up the back of the room, more of a warehouse really. With around 200+ people going crazy in a mosh pit in front of me.
In 10 minutes I had to get up in front of them all and give a gospel message.
The problem was this, I had no message.
It seemed at that moment I had no idea what the gospel truly was, I didn't know how to form words, or even have a coherent thought as to what to say to these people that could somehow illuminate God and His love for their lives.
I was stuck, helpless, weak.
These are the moments I love. The moment where, if God doesn't come through, I look like an idiot, and all the planning and work that we had done to get to this point had been a waste. I'm not so much interested in preaching a 'good word' anymore. I need His power.
In this moment, he showed me a story, the story of Luke 8:40-56. About a woman, who was in the same position. Either Jesus came through with the goods, or she was a dead woman.
A bit more dramatic than my wounded pride perhaps, but to some of the people in that crowd, it was the same situation. If Jesus didn't come through for them that night, they would end up in hell.
During my recent outreach to Argentina, the Father told me I was His friend. Nothing dramatic. No great and mighty promises or words. No promise of victorious life. Just that I was His friend, and that He is the best friend indeed.
I could rely on Him. Always.
So I did, and long story short, a bunch of people became Christians that night for the first time. From death to life, one touch is all that it takes, one moment where Jesus actually does come through, and without it, we are ruined.
I wonder, if this week, we will find ourselves in a position like this. Maybe you are in one right now. You need Him to deliver you from debt. From fear, from death? I envy you. That is the best place to be.
Hold on to hope, and let it birth Faith in your spirit. He is Faithful.