Anticipate the Impact

Once, I went camping with three other friends on a mountain outside of my hometown of Asheville, N.C. It was a cold and wet November. We spent most of the day hiking, bypassing mountain streams and climbing moss-covered rocks. At some point in the day, on a dare, I performed the intelligent act of jumping into one of the mountain pools at the base of a waterfall, and when night came and we'd found a place to camp -- a rhododendron-covered thicket near the crest of the mountain -- I huddled next to the campfire in wet jeans and a coat with a hot-pack under my shirt to warm me up. 

The night was long, and I was freezing (wet jeans in November will do that to you). While I lay awake, shivering in my small pup-tent, a wind-storm moved in. I lay there for at least an hour listening to it. Over and over, I heard the shriek of the wind begin on the other side of the mountain. It collected and built in intensity, and then it roared up the mountainside to the crest where we were. It came rushing over the top and down the other side, closer and closer, until it hit our campsite, and the cold, wet side of the tent would slap hard against my face as the wind barreled by. 

And then the next one would start. The shrieking was powerful, eerie, and majestic all rolled into one. It reminded me of how insignificant I was. I couldn't touch it, I couldn't stop it, and boy-howdy, the wind played havoc with our campsite. At some point during the night, the tent I was "sleeping" in (there was no sleep for me that night) collapsed, and I had to literally claw my way out of it and share another tent with another couple of campers. 

Out of all the memorable things about that camping trip, the shrieking wind on the other side of the mountain is what I remember the most clearly. You could track its journey from the point of its origin to the point of impact -- a phenomenon I had never before experienced. During that long night, I found that I began to anticipate the impact. It stirred something inside me that almost wanted to reach out and grasp the wind when it hit.

John 16:5-16 doesn't cover a camping trip. There's no fire, roasted marshmallows, or Kumbaya around the coalbed. No mountain streams or rhododendron covered hillsides. There's only the quiet of after-supper fellowship, a serious-eyed Man speaking to eleven close friends, and grave subject matter.  

"I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor (the Holy Spirit) will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you" (John 16:7). In this section, Jesus gives us one of the clearest pictures of the Trinity we've got in Scripture. Though the Bible never specifically declares the word: "Trinity," several sections make it very clear that there are three separate-but-together parts: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

"[The Holy Spirit] will bring glory to Me (the Son) by taking from what is Mine (the Son's) and making it known to you. All that belongs to the Father is Mine (the Son's). That is why I said the Spirit will take from what is Mine (the Son's) and make it known to you" (John 16:14-15).

My children have asked me before to explain how there can be three-in-one, and I have to laugh, because how in the world do you explain it? I got an idea from my kids' preschool teacher, and I've used it several times since.

An egg. Yep.

An egg has a yolk, a white, and a shell. Three separate components with three separate functions, and yet... it's one egg. Only a yolk would not constitute an egg. Neither would a white or a shell. 

It's not a perfect metaphor, but it's a good one, and it made sense to my kiddos. So thanks, Mrs. Schultz. 

Back to the Holy Spirit. I've been spending a lot of time on Jesus (the Son) as I've written my way through the Gospel of John. I've mentioned the Holy Spirit in the places where Jesus mentions Him, but I wanted to explore further. The Lord reminded me of Acts 2 this morning, so I flipped to the right to read.

Jesus, by this point, has died, come back to life, and returned to heaven, disappearing into the clouds in sight of the disciples. Judas Iscariot has committed suicide, and now only eleven disciples remain, so they decide they need to replace Judas with someone else. They nominate two options, cast lots, and choose the one to whom the lot falls, a man named Matthias.

Now there's twelve again, and the day of Pentecost comes. All twelve disciples (and possibly others) are together in one place. "Suddenly, a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them" (Acts 2:2-4).

Today was the first time I thought about how that wind must have sounded as it gathered in the heavens and journeyed to the house. The disciples could hear it covering the distance, closing in, coming closer and closer... until it impacted the house and the people inside.

They couldn't grasp it; they couldn't hold the wind... but He held them. Mysterious, unworldly, and completely amazing, He brought tongues of fire that rested on each one of them. He gave them languages they had never before spoken, all for the purpose of fulfilling Jesus' great commission: "Go and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19). 

"And about three thousand were added to their number that day" (Acts 2:41).

But they had to wait for the Wind. And they did. They waited and they prayed. They didn't wander off, separate, shoot the breeze, take a vacation, sail to Aruba.

They waited. They prayed. They heard the shriek of the wind in the heavens, and they braced for the arrival of it. They anticipated the impact.

There was no anticlimactic disappointment here; can you imagine the adrenaline racing through their veins? Wind from heaven, tongues of fire on their heads (that right there would make you sit up and pay attention), speaking in languages they don't know so that nationalities from all over the known world can understand what they're saying? No wonder three thousand people do sit up and pay attention!

Sometimes, I think we get so caught up in yawn-worthy normalcy: Meh, revival meetings, meh, prayer group.

What about Revival Meetings!! Prayer Group!! We get to lay our requests before the Almighty Creator of the universe! We get to approach the Throne! Because Jesus made a way!!

Where has our excitement gone? How has the wind become white noise?! This is amazing and mind-blowing! 

We have forgotten how to anticipate the impact! Church, wake up! Acts 2 your day today! Wait on the Lord, pray, wait... anticipate!