From Fearful to Faithful

Judges 6:11- 7:23

Good morning Church.

If you’ve got your Bible — and I hope you do — go ahead and meet me in Judges chapters 6 and 7. We’re diving into the life of Gideon and talking about what it means to have courage when fear is knocking at the door.

Now before we jump in, I want you to picture this. It’s the 1800s. You’re not a famous preacher. You’re not a church planter with a book deal. You’re a single, five-foot-nothing schoolteacher from Virginia named Lottie Moon. And God taps you on the shoulder and says, “I’m sending you to China.”

You’re like, “Lord… you sure you got the right person?” But off she goes.

She sails halfway across the world — no iPhone, no return ticket, no real support system — and gives her life for the gospel. Spent decades in China. Learned the language, served the poor, preached the gospel. She poured herself out until she literally died of starvation because she gave all her food away during a famine.

And the world didn’t know her name. But heaven sure did.

See, that’s what it looks like when God calls someone to something way bigger than themselves. It’s not flashy. It’s not safe. But it’s holy.

And some of y’all, if you’re honest, you don’t want that kind of story. You’re like, “God, I’ll follow you… as long as you don’t ask me to do anything scary. I’ll go anywhere you want, Lord — as long as it’s comfortable, convenient, and air-conditioned.”

But what if — seriously, what if — God called you to something that didn’t make sense? Something that made your knees shake and your voice tremble and your plans go out the window?

Would you be scared? Good. Because that’s usually how you know it’s not about you — it’s about Him.

You know the number one fear in America? Public speaking. That’s right. People are more afraid of holding a microphone than meeting a grizzly bear in the wild. Which means, statistically, you’d rather be in the coffin than preach the funeral.

I remember the first time I was told to preach. I didn’t volunteer. I got voluntold.

Pastor Micah, looked me dead in the eyes at youth camp and said, “Jordan, when the music stops, you’re up.”

I said, “Micah, I don’t do that.”

He said, “You think Moses did Pharaoh? You think Jonah did Nineveh? Boy, God doesn’t need your comfort — He needs your obedience.”

I said, “But what do I even say?”

He said, “That’s easy. Talk about Jesus. Do it for 15 minutes. Then sit down.”

And I wish I could say I have been doing it ever since but that was not the case- the Lord called me into ministry later on.

So open up to Judges 6 and 7, and let’s talk about what happens when God shows up and tells a scared man named Gideon, “I’ve got a job for you… and it’s going to terrify you — and that’s the point.”

What if God called you to step into something so wild, so out-of-your-league, that unless He showed up, it wasn’t happening? I’m talkin’ about the kind of calling where if God doesn’t come through, you're toast. Well, if you’ve ever felt that tight-chested, faith-shaking tension — you’re in a good spot to hear from Judges chapter 6.

Let’s pick it up in verse 1:

“The people of Israel did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, and the Lord gave them into the hand of Midian for seven years.”

Here we go again. If you've been tracking through Judges with us, this should sound familiar — it's the spiritual rinse-and-repeat cycle: rebellion, regret, rescue… then right back to rebellion. What we've come to call around here crappy Christianity. You know what I mean — when people want just enough of God to feel better, but not enough to actually surrender. They feel sorry, make a few promises, then go right back to what broke them.

So now, the Midianites are running the show. And not just a little. These folks didn’t just oppress Israel, they wrecked them. Took their food. Raided their land. Ran them off into caves like animals. It got so bad that God’s people were hiding out, living in literal holes in the ground.

But then something shifts — verse 7:

“When the people of Israel cried out to the Lord…”

Finally! They cry out for help. But check this out — God doesn't send a warrior, He sends a preacher.

That’s right. They asked for a Savior… and God sent a sermon.

It’d be like your car breaks down on the side of the highway, you call AAA, and instead of a tow truck, they send a guy to give you a class on defensive driving. You’d be like, “That’s not really what I need right now.” But God knew better. Because what they needed more than a fix was the truth.

See, the problem wasn’t just their enemies — it was their hearts. God knew that unless they realized the issue wasn’t out there but in here, nothing was gonna change.

RC Sproul — said it like this:

“God’s ultimate goal for your life is not comfort, but conformity to Christ.

Translation? God ain’t just trying to calm you down — He’s trying to wake you up.

So the prophet shows up and preaches. And he reminds them of everything God had done: “I brought you out of Egypt, delivered you from slavery, gave you freedom, gave you a land... and then I told you, ‘I am the Lord your God.’”

Go ahead and write down identity next to that.

And then He says, “Don’t fear the gods of the Amorites.” Write down activity.

See, this is gospel math: identity comes first, activity follows. The message of Christianity is not, “Do better so you can belong.” No — it’s “You belong to God, now live like it.”

Identity fuels activity — not the other way around.

And then God says:

verse 10 “But you have not obeyed my voice.”

Ouch. It’s like God’s saying, “You’re back in the ditch, but let’s be real — you’re the one who keeps grabbing the wheel and driving into it.”

And you know what’s wild? The text doesn’t even tell us how Israel responds to the sermon. No reaction. No altar call. No “thank you, preacher.” Nothing.

Why? Maybe because the Spirit of God wanted to leave that question hanging — like He’s asking us:

What are you gonna do with what He just said?

Now listen — what’s wild about Judges 6 is that even after God sends a sermon instead of a savior, He’s still gonna bring salvation. Not because Israel deserves it, but because that’s just who God is. He’s faithful even when we’re faithless.

And then comes verse 11:

“Now the angel of the Lord came and sat under the terebinth at Ophrah…”

Now pause. That’s Ophrah — not Oprah. Ain’t nobody gettin’ a free chariot: “You get a donkey! You get a donkey!” No, different story. This ain’t the talk show. This is the Lord stepping into the mess.

And where does the angel show up? Under a tree owned by Joash, while his son Gideon is beating out wheat in a winepress to hide from the Midianites.

Now I don’t know the last time you threshed wheat — probably never — but let me tell you, this ain’t how it’s done. Normally, you’d be outside on a hilltop where the wind could blow the chaff away. But Gideon’s down in a hole. In a winepress. Like, a spot made for smashing grapes, not harvesting grain. Why’s he down there? Because he’s scared. Dude is hiding. He’s ducking the Midianites and just trying to survive.

And that’s where the Lord meets him.

Now let me just ask — where are you hiding? Where are you playing it safe, hoping nobody sees the fear, the insecurity, the secret, the shame? Where are you just trying to get through without being found out?

I mean, y’all know how this goes. You’re at small group. It’s almost over. And then the leader says, “Okay, who wants to close us in prayer?” Suddenly everybody turns into Gideon. Eyes drop. Phones come out. People acting like they just got a text from Jesus Himself. You start praying, “Lord, don’t let them call on me. Please, Lord, don’t let them call on me.”

We’ve all been Gideon.

Now check out verse 12:

“And the angel of the Lord appeared to him and said, ‘The Lord is with you, O mighty man of valor.’”

And Gideon’s probably looking around like, “Uh… you talking to me? You know I’m in a hole, right? You see me hiding, right?”

At first glance, it almost sounds like sarcasm — like God’s trolling him. But that’s not what’s happening here. See, God isn’t identifying Gideon based on where he is or what he feels — God is calling him based on who He is and what He can do through him.

That’ll preach.

See, the Lord doesn’t look at you and say, “Yep, let’s go with the guy hiding in a cave and call him weak.” No. God calls him “mighty” before he ever swings a sword. Why? Because identity always comes before activity in the Kingdom.

And if you could believe that — really believe that — it’d flip your world upside down. That’s why we sing “Good, Good Father” until our vocal cords give out. Because it’s true. He is a good, good Father — that’s who He is. And we are loved by Him — that’s who we are.

And everything else… is just details.

Listen, if you’re in Christ, God doesn’t see you by what you did last Friday night. He doesn’t label you by your past, your addiction, your abortion, your divorce, your fear, or your failure. He sees you through the finished work of His Son. He looks at you and says, “Mighty man of valor. Daughter of the King. Beloved. Redeemed.”

But we all get those whispers, don’t we? You know the ones. The voices that say, “You’re a fraud.” “You’re too broken.” “You’ll never change.” And you can always tell where they’re from by where they start.

The enemy always starts with your past. He says, “Look what you’ve done. Look where you are.” That’s condemnation.

But God starts with Himself. With what He’s done. With who He is.

So even if you’re hiding today — in shame, in fear, in doubt — the Word of the Lord comes to you and says, “The Lord is with you.”

And if the Lord is with you… then maybe, just maybe, you are stronger than you think — because it’s not about your strength anyway.

A.W. Tozer said, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”

So let me ask you: when you think about God, do you see a Savior who meets you in the winepress? A Father who calls you by a name you didn’t earn but desperately need?

Because He does. And He is.

Let me ask you something else and I think its pretty telling — when you picture the face of God looking at you, what do you see?

Like really — when God looks at you, what do you think is on His face? What’s the expression? What’s the vibe?

If you're anything like me, I know what the Bible says. I know the doctrine. I’ve gone through Systematic Theology more than once. I believe the gospel. But if I’m being honest, my default assumption — that gut reaction deep down — is that God looks at me with this kind of low-grade divine frustration.

Like He opens the door to my life and goes, “Seriously? Again? Really, Jordan?”

And maybe that’s because, if I’m being real, that’s how I tend to look at my own child.

Judah loves legos — if someone were to walk barefoot into his room, they would walk out with bloody feet most of the time because looks a like a lego bomb went off.

The other morning, I tell him, “Buddy, go get dressed — we are going over to Uncle Josh’s.” That means swimming, bathing suit. fun. I’m not telling him to get dressed for school. This should be easy.

I run in a few minutes later — I’ve got his hat in one hand, his towel in the other — and there he is: one sock one, half his shirt off, and legos in his hands. Still in pajama bottoms

I’m like, “What are you doing??”

And so what happens? I take those moments — that eye-roll, that “what is wrong with you?” kind of parenting — and I project it onto God. I assume that’s how He looks at me.

Because let’s be real: I’ve got God’s Word. I’ve got His Spirit. I’ve got a calling, a family, a church to lead, students to teach, lesson plans, and half the time, I feel like I’m standing there with one sock, half a shirt on, in my pajama bottoms going, “Wait… what’d You say again, Lord?”

But listen — that’s not the gospel.

That is not how your Heavenly Father sees you.

Every time God looks at you — if you are in Christ — He does not see your screw-ups or your slowness or your sin. He sees His Son. He sees perfection.

When He looks at you, He sees the finished work of Jesus Christ. He sees righteousness. He sees victory.

Because Jesus didn’t just cover your sin — He became your sin, so that in Him, you might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21). He is our propitiation — which means the full payment that satisfies.

That means God isn’t disappointed in you — because He was fully satisfied in Jesus.

Romans 8:1 says, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

None. Not a little. Not “when you get it together.” Now.

So when you stumble, when you feel unworthy, when you find yourself holding your metaphorical legos and wondering how you got here — just remember:

God isn’t waiting to scold you. He’s already welcomed you. Because Jesus has already paid it all.

And now, when the Father looks at you — He smiles.

Now, by the way — can we just pause for a second and talk about who this angel is?

Verse 12 says “the angel of the Lord appeared to him,” and he starts talking about the Lord — third person, right? But then jump to verse 14, and it says, “And the Lord turned to him and said…”

Hold up — so is this just a messenger, or is this God Himself?

Yes.

See, this kind of thing happens a lot in the Old Testament. You’ve got someone who shows up as a messenger from God, speaking on behalf of God, and then all of a sudden, they’re speaking as God. They go from “He says” to “I say.” From “the Lord is with you” to “I am the Lord.”

So what’s going on here?

It’s what theologians call a Christophany — a pre-incarnate appearance of Jesus. This is Jesus showing up in the Old Testament, before Bethlehem, before the manger, before Mary even knew His name. He’s not just the messenger from God — He is God.

And that’s why this passage starts to make sense when you read it in light of the New Testament. Because Jesus is always both: the one sent by the Father, and the one who is one with the Father.

So right here in Judges 6, Gideon is face-to-face with the Word who became flesh… only, He hasn’t taken on flesh yet. He’s talking to the same Jesus who would later say, “I am with you always,” because He already was.

It’s the beauty of the gospel written into the fabric of the Old Testament — God doesn’t just send help. He shows up Himself.

Now Gideon, bless his heart, hears this word from the Lord — “The Lord is with you” — and he basically says, “Really? Because if God’s with us, shouldn’t things be going better?”

Sound familiar?

It’s the same question a lot of us ask when life gets sideways: “God, I put my faith in You — I tithed, I served, I even listened to that sermon podcast from Leviticus — and now the wheels are falling off. What gives?”

But check out God’s answer — verse 14:

“And the Lord turned to him and said, ‘Go in this might of yours and save Israel from the hand of Midian; do not I send you?’”

Translation: Be careful what you pray for… you might be the answer to your own prayer.

You ever prayed one of those prayers, “God, why is there so much brokenness in the world?” And it’s almost like God says, “Yeah, I was gonna ask you the same thing… because I put you there. So, what are you gonna do about it?”

See, sometimes we’re begging God to fix something, and God’s saying, “You’re part of the fix. I’ve called you. I’ve equipped you. Now move.”

But Gideon’s still stuck in his insecurities. Verse 15:

“Please, Lord, how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house.”

In other words, “God, you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m at the bottom of the barrel in a family that’s already scraping the bottom.”

And if I’m honest, I get that. I really do.

I’ve learned something about myself: when I feel like I’ve got everything under control — when the bills are paid, the calendar’s clear, and I feel like I’m cruising — I’m usually not on mission for Jesus. I’m just managing my little kingdom, pretending like I’ve got it all handled.

But when I’m in over my head — when I’m desperate for God, when the clock is ticking and the sermon isn’t writing itself, and I think , “Lord, these are Your people. If You don’t show up, I’ve got nothing…” — that’s when I know I’m right where He wants me.

That’s when I’m walking in the calling, not my comfort.

I’ll be real with you — most Monday mornings feel like a Gideon moment. I sit in front of a blank screen thinking, “Lord, if You don’t give me something, I’ve got nothing but bad illustrations and a caffeine addiction.” And yet, week after week, He meets me.

Because here’s the truth: God’s will is often going to lead you into situations where you are in way over your head — not to shame you, but to shape you into someone who learns to rely on Him.

And then comes God’s answer, again, in verse 16:

“But I will be with you.”

Y’all — that’s God’s answer to every doubt, every fear, every excuse.

Underline it. Highlight it. Tattoo it on your soul.

He told Moses the same thing. Moses was like, “I don’t talk good.” God didn’t say, “Well let Me fix your stutter.” He said, “I will be with you.”

Because that’s always God’s answer when He calls people who feel too weak, too small, too scared: “I will be with you.”

He told Joshua the same thing — three times in the first chapter: “Be strong and courageous.” Why? Because Joshua was afraid. And God didn’t say, “Because you’ve got this.” He said, “Because I’m with you.”

Over and over, the most repeated command in the Bible is “Do not be afraid.” And the reason isn’t “because you’re awesome.” It’s “because I am with you.”

Even at the end of Matthew 28, right before Jesus drops the Great Commission on His disciples — the call to go into all the world and make disciples of every nation — He anchors the whole thing with this promise:

“And behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

God’s trump card over all your insecurity, all your fear, all your “I’m not enough” is Himself.

So when Gideon says, “I’m the weakest of the weak,” God says, “But I will be with you.”

But Gideon’s still not sure. Verse 17 —

“If I have found favor in your eyes, then show me a sign that it is you who speak with me.”

You can almost hear the insecurity. “God… I want to believe you, I really do. But I’m gonna need a little proof.”

So the angel says, “All right. Make me some food.” Gideon prepares a meal, brings it back, sets it on a rock — and the angel touches it with his staff. Boom. Flames shoot out of the rock, the food gets vaporized, and the angel disappears like a mic drop from heaven.

And Gideon’s like, “Okay. Yep. That’s definitely God. Got it.”

So what’s the point?

Gideon felt small. Unqualified. Afraid. And God didn’t give him a pep talk — He gave him His presence.

Verse 25 — That night the Lord said to Gideon, “Tear down the altar of Baal that your father has…”

In other words: “We’re gonna start in your house, son.”

See, before Gideon could go fight the enemies out there, God tells him to clean house in here. Before the public victory, there’s got to be a private demolition. Before you lead a nation, you better deal with the idols in your own backyard.

Verse 26 — “Build an altar to the Lord your God on top of the stronghold…”

Notice what God says: not beside the altar to Baal, not around it, not “go plant a worship garden next to it.” No — tear it down and build on top of it. Because you can’t worship the Lord and leave the idols standing. One of them’s gotta fall. And spoiler alert: it ain’t gonna be the Lord.

So what does Gideon do?

Verse 27 — “So Gideon took ten of his servants and did as the Lord had told him. But because he was too afraid of his family and the men of the town to do it by day, he did it by night.”

Now let’s be real — this ain’t exactly Braveheart. Gideon’s not out here shouting, “Freedom!” with blue war paint and bagpipes in the background. No, our boy sneaks out in the middle of the night like a scared raccoon with a demolition plan.

But listen — God never rebukes him for it.

Because apparently, God is okay with baby steps of obedience in the direction of His call.

How merciful is that?

Because if we’re being honest, most of us don’t go from zero to spiritual superhero in one day. Most of us follow Jesus with a limp. With trembling hands and nervous hearts. But the good news is, He’s not looking for perfection — He’s looking for direction.

And here’s what I know about myself — I’m not always patient. I’m not always merciful. But God is.

Think about when your kid was a baby. You didn’t expect them to sprint. You expected them to do what babies do: cry, crawl, and fall over. But when they finally took that first wobbly step? Oh, man — you lost your mind.

Remember it? Their giant bobblehead tips the wrong way, gravity takes over, and they kind of stumble into two steps before faceplanting into the couch — and what do you do? You don’t critique their form. You don’t say, “Well, technically, that wasn’t a walk.” No — you celebrate like they just won gold at the toddler Olympics.

You're taking pictures, you're clapping, you're calling grandma: “She walked! She walked!”

Even though — let’s be honest — it looked more like a drunk penguin falling into a beanbag.

Why? Because you’re their parent. You’re proud not of how far they got — but that they moved toward you.

That’s what’s happening here with Gideon.

God’s not angry. He’s not disappointed. He’s not sitting in heaven with His arms crossed saying, “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” No. I believe He’s smiling. I believe the Father looks down and says, “Atta boy. That’s it. One step at a time.”

Because He’s a good Father.

And if all you’ve got today is a shaky step of obedience, God says, “That’s enough for today. Keep walking. I’m with you.”

So don’t let fear stop you. Don’t wait for the courage to show up. Just take the next step. However clumsy. However quiet. Because when you walk in obedience — even at night, even afraid — your Father rejoices.

Why?

Because God values obedience over bravado.

He’s not looking for swagger — He’s looking for surrender.

And so Gideon obeys. He tears down the altar. He builds a new one to the Lord. And the next morning? Everybody in town wakes up like, “What happened to our god?”

Then someone whispers, “Uh… pretty sure Gideon did it.”

And they’re like, “Kill him!”

But check this out — verse 31 — Joash, Gideon’s dad, steps up.

“If Baal really is a god, let him contend for himself.”

That’s ancient Hebrew trash talk for, “If your god’s so tough, let him fight his own battles.”

And verse 32 says Gideon got a new nickname: Jerubbaal, which means “Let Baal defend himself.”

So now this formerly terrified cave-dweller is walking around with a name that basically means “Baal-beater.” That’s hilarious.

Coward by day. Idol-smashing ninja by night. And now the dude’s got a nickname like he just won a WWE match.

But here’s what matters: Gideon obeyed. He didn’t feel bold. He didn’t feel ready. But he obeyed.

And then — verse 33 — the Midianites come roaring in. Full-blown military assault. And once again, the Lord shows up and tells Gideon, “Let’s go. It’s time to fight.”

So Gideon, bless his anxious little heart, still isn’t convinced. God has already shown up. He’s already spoken. He’s already burned up a meal with fire from a rock. But Gideon’s like, “Okay, okay, Lord… I know You said You’re with me, but can I get one more confirmation? Just to be really sure?”

So Gideon comes up with his own test:

“I’m gonna put this fleece — like, literal animal skin — out on the ground. And here’s the deal, God: in the morning, I want the fleece to be soaking wet, but I want the ground around it to be dry. If that happens, I’ll know You’re serious.”

And verse 38 says — “And it was so.” Boom. Gideon wakes up, squeezes that fleece, and gets enough dew out of it to fill a bowl. Like, that thing’s soppin’ wet. The ground? Bone dry.

Now, any rational person might say, “Well alright then, let’s go!”

But not Gideon. Nope.

He’s like, “Wait, wait, wait, wait. That might’ve been too easy. I mean, dew does land on stuff overnight. Maybe that wasn’t a miracle. Maybe it was just a heavy mist. Let’s switch it up.”

“Okay God, let’s do it again — but opposite this time. Make the fleece bone dry, and let all the ground around it be soaking wet. Then I’ll really know You’re with me.”

And verse 40 says — “And God did so that night.”

Y’all. God did it again.

Do you see how patient God is with this man?

He doesn’t yell, “Seriously, Gideon? Are you kidding me? I’ve told you, I’ve shown you, I’ve called you — how many fleeces do you need, man?”

Nope. No lightning bolts. No thunder from heaven. Just wet grass. Dry fleece. Grace.

Because listen — Gideon didn’t need another miracle. He needed reassurance. And God gave it.

Why?

Because our God is unbelievably patient with weak, wobbly faith that still points itself in His direction. And if He’s that patient with Gideon, maybe — just maybe — He’s that patient with you, too.

Let’s be honest — we’ve all tried the fleece thing. We’ve all made up our own little litmus tests to figure out if “God is really in this.”

“Lord, if that parking spot is still open when I pull around again, I’ll go talk to her.” “Lord, if my tax refund hits early, I’ll tithe this time.” “God, if I wake up without hitting snooze, I’ll take that as confirmation You want me to serve in kids' ministry.”

Listen, fleece-throwing may give you a temporary sense of control, but that’s not the point of Gideon’s story.

Here’s the real point. Here’s what we learn about courage and calling:

1. God doesn’t call the brave; He makes brave the called.

God doesn’t show up and say, “Gideon, you’ve proven yourself. You’ve passed the test. You’re already fearless and faithful.” No — God shows up to a guy hiding in a winepress and says, “Mighty man of valor.”

Say what?

He looks at a man cowering in fear and calls out courage. Why? Because when God speaks into your life, He doesn’t start with where you are — He starts with what He’s making you in Christ.

Same with Moses. “Lord, I can’t talk right.” God says, “I’ll be your mouth.”

Or Abraham. The man was pushing 100 and had no kids. God says, “You’re the father of many nations.” And Abraham’s like, “I can’t even get through family game night without a nap.”

But Romans 4:17 says that faith is believing in the God who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not yet exist. God says, “You will be,” and faith says, “Okay.”

This is what God does.

He finds us dead in our sin and calls us alive in Christ. He finds us ashamed and calls us righteous. He finds us afraid and calls us brave. He finds us unqualified and says, “Perfect. You’re just who I’m looking for.”

And here’s where the spiritual warfare gets real:

Satan — the accuser — always starts with your worst moments and defines you by them.

“You’re a failure. You blew it. You’re weak. You’re not enough.” And listen — he’s not wrong about what you did. He’s just wrong about who you are.

Because God starts with your future in Christ and defines you by what He’s already declared over you.

“You are my beloved. You are holy. You are chosen. You are more than a conqueror.”

You say, “But God, I’m not any of those things.” He says, “You will be.”

Here’s how you tell the difference between the Holy Spirit and Satan:

Both will talk about your sin. But the enemy uses it to beat you down. The Holy Spirit uses it to grow you up.

Satan condemns. The Spirit convicts. One points backward with shame. The other points forward with grace.

So hear me — God doesn’t call the bold; He emboldens the called.

Or maybe you’ve heard it this way: “God doesn’t call the equipped; He equips the called.”

Because here’s what we tend to say: “God, show me how this is going to work, and then I’ll obey.”

And God says, “Wrong order. You obey — and then I’ll show you how it works.”

You’re waiting on the provision, and God’s waiting on the step.

You’re saying, “Lord, give me everything I need and I’ll go.” God’s saying, “Go, and you’ll find everything you need along the way.”

Peter didn’t get floaties before he walked on water. He just stepped out of the boat.

2. We Are the Activity of God in Our Generation

So Gideon asks the question we’ve all asked at some point:

“God, why don’t You do amazing things like You used to? Like the stories we heard growing up — splitting seas, calling fire from heaven, knocking down walls. Where’s that God?”

And God responds:

“Gideon, I’m right here… and I plan to do something about it — through you.”

Listen, family — we are not just spectators in the story of God. We are the activity of God in our generation.

We are not sitting around waiting on the next prophet to roll through town. We’re not killing time until revival falls out of the sky.

We are the move of God we’ve been praying for. If you’ve got the Spirit of God inside you, that means Jesus hasn’t stopped working — He’s just moved inside of you.

That’s why I take preaching seriously. Because it ain’t just a TED Talk with a Bible verse. It’s Jesus, still preaching through His people.

That’s why you should take your spiritual gift seriously too. That gift of mercy? That gift of faith? That healing prayer you think was “just a moment”? It wasn’t. That was the risen Jesus flexing His muscles through your obedience.

These aren’t cute talents you sprinkle into your schedule — they’re weapons in the hands of a living God who still splits seas and moves mountains. Through you.

There’s a passage I share with our staff all the time — Amos 5:4–6:

“Seek Me and live. Don’t go to Bethel, Gilgal, or Beersheba.”

Why those cities? Because back in the day, they were power spots. Places where God used to show up. – Bethel: Where Jacob met God face to face. – Gilgal: Where Israel crossed the Jordan and rolled away their shame. – Beersheba: Where God showed up for Abraham and Isaac.

And you know what God says? “Stop living in the past. Don’t go chasing the memory of My movement. Seek Me now and live.”

Y’all, I think we exhaust the patience of heaven talking about the good old days. “Oh Lord, send another Great Awakening. Like back in the day.” “Oh Lord, revive Your church. Like the book of Acts.”

And I imagine God saying, “I’m trying. But y’all won’t get off the porch.”

Listen — I thank God for what He did in the past, but I believe with everything in me the greatest days of the church are still ahead.

Why?

Because I’ve got a kid. And, Lord willing, he’ll have kids. And I’m not content for his faith to be built on my old camp stories and their grandma’s quiet time. I want him to experience a move of God in their generation.

And because — hear me — there are still over 6,400 unreached people groups on this planet who have never heard the name of Jesus. That means the mission ain’t done, so neither is the outpouring.

So if you're asking: “God, why aren’t You doing something in my family?” “Why aren’t You moving in my church?” “Why aren’t You showing up in my city?”

Maybe God is answering, “I am. I sent you.”

You want revival? Be the spark. You want to see healing? Open your hands. You want to see the gospel advance? Step out, and let God use your feet.

You are not waiting on the move of God. You are the move of God.

3. Revival Starts at Home

Before God sent Gideon to lead an army, He sent him to clean out his dad’s garage.

Literally. Gideon’s first assignment wasn’t to storm the gates of Midian — it was to tear down the idol in his father’s backyard.

Because listen — before you can fight the enemies around you, you’ve got to deal with the idols within you.

Those secret altars? They’re not just harmless decorations. They are spiritual termites — weakening your foundation and keeping you from stepping into what God has for you.

Now I know what some of y’all are thinking: “Idols? I don’t have a shrine to Baal in my house. I’ve got a Keurig and a couch and a Roku — we’re good.”

Yeah… but maybe you don’t understand what an idol really is.

See, in Gideon’s day, they weren’t rejecting God outright — they were just adding to Him. “Oh yeah, we still believe in Yahweh. But, you know… we also need some Baal in case we need rain. And maybe a little Asherah for the fertility stuff. Just playing it safe.”

It wasn’t God or idols. It was God + idols. And that’s the problem.

And we hear that and laugh, like, “Silly ancient people with their little statues.” But let me ask you…

Where do you feel like God might not come through — so you’ve set up a backup plan?

Where in your life do you say, “God, I trust You… but just in case You don’t move fast enough, I’ve got a little something on the side”?

Let me give you two sure signs of idolatry. Think of these like smoke — and where there’s smoke, there’s fire:

1. Disobedience.

When you know what God’s Word says — but you’re still doing your own thing — that’s idol smoke.

Let’s talk real.

You say, “I trust God… except in my relationships.” So you compromise — staying in something you know isn’t godly, sleeping with someone you’re not married to, walking out of your marriage in the name of “happiness” — not because you think it’s right, but because you don’t trust that God will take care of you.

You say, “I trust God… but not with my money.” So you hold back generosity. You cheat. You hustle harder and ignore your family — all in the name of security. But deep down, it’s not faith. It’s fear. And you’re bowing to a god with dollar signs on it.

If God says tithe and you say no — that’s not a money issue. That’s an idol issue.

2. Anxiety.

You’re afraid you’ll lose something… because it’s not God holding it — you are.

You lie awake at night worried about your job, your kids, your relationships, your image — because you think it all depends on you to hold it together.

Anxiety says: “I’m not sure God’s gonna do His job… so I better keep doing mine.”

And just like with Gideon, before God uses you out there, He wants to deal with what’s in here.

You want to be used by God? Great.

First, go to war with your idols.

Rip ‘em up. Smash ‘em down. Burn the backup plans. Because God doesn’t share space. And He’s not going to fill a heart that’s already full of Plan B.

Revival doesn’t start with a big stage and a worship night. Revival starts in your living room. It starts in your habits. It starts when you tear down every altar that’s competing with Jesus.

Because the real battleground isn’t just in your culture — it’s in your heart.

4. The Cross Is Our Wet Fleece

So Gideon’s still nervous — still unsure if God is really with him — and he says, “Alright, God, here’s the deal. I’m gonna lay out this fleece. If it’s wet and the ground is dry, then I’ll know You’re with me.”

And God says, “Okay.” And the next morning — boom. Fleece is soaked, ground is dry, Gideon’s got enough dew to fill a bowl.

Then Gideon’s like, “Hold up. That was too easy. Let’s flip it. Let the fleece be dry and the ground soaking wet.”

And again — God does it. Not because He had to… but because God is patient with scared people who are still trying to step out in faith.

Now let’s be honest — the whole idea of the fleece has been wildly abused by Christians for years.

We’ve all tried it:

“Lord, if that Chick-fil-A line is under 5 cars, I’ll know you want me to ask her out.” “If this next basketball shot goes in, then I’ll know you’re calling me to missions… nope. One more shot.”

Now hear me: it’s not always wrong to ask for confirmation. But if your decision-making strategy is mostly fleece-throwing and rarely Bible + godly counsel? You’ve got the order backwards.

Even Gideon knew it was a stretch. Verse 39, he says, “Please don’t be angry with me…” In other words, “I know this is pushing it, Lord.”

But here’s the real question Gideon was asking — and it’s the same one we ask today:

“God, how do I know You’re with me? How do I know You’re really in control? How do I know You’re not going to leave me hanging?”

You ready for the answer?

The cross is our wet fleece.

Gideon asked for a supernatural sign. You and I have the cross — the ultimate, irrevocable, undeniable, blood-stained sign of God’s love and sovereignty.

At the cross, God took the worst act of human history — the murder of the Son of God — and flipped it into the greatest redemptive act of all time.

So is God in control? Just look at the cross. Is God for you? Romans 5:8 — “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

That’s your proof. That’s your confidence. That’s your courage.

One of my favorite verses on fear is 1 John 4:18:

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”

Then comes this phrase: “For fear has to do with punishment.”

You ever feel that? Like the thing you’re most afraid of is being exposed — being seen for who you really are, and then being punished or abandoned for it?

That fear goes all the way back to Genesis. Adam and Eve sin, and what do they do? They hide. They cover themselves. Why? Because now they feel vulnerable. And ever since then, we’ve been trying to cover ourselves too.

We use success, relationships, money, degrees, reputation — whatever we can wrap around ourselves to feel safe and covered.

But here’s the gospel: Jesus went to the cross so you could stop hiding. You are now clothed — not in fig leaves or fake confidence — but in the irrevocable, blood-bought righteousness of Christ.

Let me break this down:

God’s love for you is perfect in:

Intensity — He couldn’t love you more.

Constancy — He’ll never leave you.

Sufficiency — He quenches your thirst like nothing else can.

Sovereignty — He commands every molecule in the universe to fulfill His good purpose in your life.

With love like that, what is there to fear?

Remember Numbers 23:23?

“There is no sorcery that can succeed against Jacob.”

When Israel entered the Promised Land, people were freaking out. “What if the Canaanites have magic? What if they have Voldemort on their side?!”

And God says, “I don’t care who they’ve got. My name is greater.”

Or Psalm 56:11:

“In God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me?”

Answer? Nothing.

The cross has already secured your victory. The Spirit has already sealed your identity. And perfect love has already kicked fear out the door.

So if you’re looking for a sign that God’s with you — you don’t need fleece. Just look at the cross

True Courage Comes From the Presence and Promises of God

Let me land the plane with this: Real courage doesn’t come from your personality. It doesn’t come from hype. It doesn’t even come from years of experience. It comes from the presence and the promises of God — and those are given to you irrevocably in the gospel.

When Jesus sent out the disciples in the Great Commission, He didn’t start with the command — He started with the announcement.

“Behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

That’s the Great Announcement before the Great Commission. And the power to go far and do much for the kingdom comes from confidence in that announcement: I am with you.

That’s what He said to Gideon:

“Go, mighty man of valor… I am with you.”

And that’s what He says to you.

Is He calling you to be His instrument? To take a step of obedience? To walk by faith, not sight?

Then hear His voice — not mine — His voice through mine:

“You are a saint, deeply loved in Christ.” (Colossians 1:2) You say, “But God, I don’t feel like a saint.” He says, “That’s what I’ve made you.”

“You are My ambassador.” (2 Corinthians 5:19) That means you’re on mission. And God supplies everything His ambassadors need.

“You are My son. You are My daughter. I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Romans 8:15; Hebrews 13:5)

“Be strong and very courageous. The Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

“You are a mighty man of valor.” (Judges 6:12)

Listen — you don’t work up courage. You don’t generate it. You receive it.

Courage is not the reward of the spiritually elite. It’s the birthright of the blood-bought. It doesn’t flow from your performance — it flows from your position in Christ.

You don’t get courageous and then find your identity. You embrace your identity — and courage flows from that.

So today, don’t look to your courage to give you confidence in Christ. Look to your identity in Christ to give you courage for the battle.

Because the battle’s already won. The victory’s already sealed. And your mighty Savior is already with you.

So step out. Take the hill. Tear down the idol. Preach the gospel. Love your neighbor. You’re not alone.

He is with you.