The first significant time I was put in a position to surrender my will to the Lord happened when I was in college. It was an unstable time for me. I had unsure footing as I navigated college life. I remember feeling very alone, even though I was in a crowded place. My future looked very bleak to me. But God had a powerful way of showing up and proving He was there with me. He not only showed Himself to me, but to others as well—all at once.
Like many young people today, I had several doubts about God: who He was, what He was, and how to connect with Him. All these doubts came to a head one night during a college concert I participated in. The church venue was full of people of every age awaiting to hear music we had been rehearsing all year long. Churches often had to book the choir a year or two in advance. The choir traveled together for a month, performing an hour-and-a-half concert once or twice a day, depending on travel time. It was always a very special time for everyone. The music we performed had such beautiful harmonies and powerful lyrics. People always found themselves in a worshipful environment and engaged in the Word of God through music.
We were about halfway through our concert tour when it was time for us to perform again. But this time was different. I felt convicted not to sing because I had too many doubts about my faith to continue the tour. I didn’t want to sing praises to God if I had any doubt about His existence. I thought it would be hypocritical. And, if God was listening, I didn’t want to lie to Him—to His face, in His house, in front of His people. The whole scenario felt wrong to me, and I had to grapple with my lack of faith. This created a huge contradiction in my heart, and I simply could not take the stage. I wouldn’t.
Ironically, it was my devotional night to speak to the choir before our performance. As I did, I told them about my dilemma and my conviction to be true to myself and not be a hypocrite. I went on to explain that we were probably all in the same position and that we were all hypocrites. This struck home with everyone. I gave examples from our trip so far—how we were shining examples of the Christian faith on stage but full of mud and muck on the bus to and from each venue. I explained that if we truly believed the words of our songs, we would live entirely different lives. Everything would be different. It was all too true—I had shined a light on our duality, and everyone knew it. We were all frauds on stage in service to the Most High.
Soon, every head went down, eyes lowered, and tears formed from the weight of shame—shame of being guilty and fake on stage. I ended the devotion apologizing for making everyone feel this way and for being so truthful. We were broken.
We had about an hour or two before the concert would start. The conductor came out to speak with me. He said he understood my feelings. However, I would still need to perform because my class grade depended on it. I smugly told him to do what he needed to do and fail me.
I don’t remember how it happened or how long it took, but somehow I found myself on stage with my friends. As the concert progressed, I stumbled through the songs in a haze, mouthing every word. When it came time for my solo, I stepped up to the microphone and opened my mouth to sing—but nothing came out. It was awkward, to say the least. Over a thousand people sat waiting. The pianist repeated my cue six or seven times, and still, nothing. I was broken—wrecked by my conviction not to be a hypocrite. Everything came to an abrupt halt. In tears, I wanted nothing more than to sing and save us all from embarrassment, but I had no voice.
Then, my legs buckled, and I fell to my knees, crushed by the weight of my sins and shame for singing at the previous venues. But then—God. I felt one hand on my right shoulder, then another on my back, another on my neck, one on my left shoulder, another on my back, then on my head, then covering my ears. I turned enough to see in my peripheral vision the entire choir with their hands on each other’s shoulders, stretching down in a pyramid to where I knelt. It was as if we were all receiving supernatural encouragement from one another and from the Source. It washed over us like a river and pooled at my knees. When I realized what was happening, I looked up at the congregation and saw an entire church weeping at the sight. This proved to be one of the most powerful moments I have ever experienced. Words can’t explain the breadth of what God communicated to us that night: His power to move people and change hearts, His presence and involvement in our lives, and His care and love for all who are broken. To this day, people still remember the experience more than 20 years later.
God showed all of us that night that He was real, present, and loving. He loves who we are, even in our broken state. He meets us where we are.
Maybe you’re in a place where you are crushed by the weight of your sin or aren’t sure if God is hearing your prayers, or you feel your faith journey is stalling. You might be wondering, “Where do I go from here?” or asking yourself, “Where is He?” Let me assure you, God hears your prayers. He is aware of you and your situation. He loves you so much that He sends His angels to guard you in all your ways (Psalm 91:11). In His presence, there is refuge and peace. He has the power and desire to forgive you. Shame has no place to hide. Call on Him and wait patiently for an answer. Listen for His gentle voice. He will lead and guide you. Keep looking to Him. Don’t give up. He has plans to prosper you and give you hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11).
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