“So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.”
— Acts 2:41 ESV
I was sitting on the porch this morning watching my human drink his coffee and read his Bible.
I’ve watched him do this long enough to know that when the coffee gets low and the Bible stays open, something is usually on his mind.
Today it was 3,000.
Now, I’m a dog. Numbers aren’t exactly my thing. I’m more of a “How many treats are left?” kind of mathematician.
But even I know 3,000 is a lot of people.
In Acts 2, the Holy Spirit came, Peter preached Jesus, and about 3,000 people responded to the Gospel.
That wasn’t just a big church service.
That was revival.
And sitting there listening to my human, he asked out loud…
“I wonder what would it take for us to see something like that today, buddy?”
I think the answer starts closer to home than we sometimes want to admit.
Revival doesn’t begin with everybody else.
It begins with me.
Before we ask God to change our church, maybe we ought to ask Him to change our heart.
Before we pray for our community, maybe we need to pray for our own obedience.
Before we ask God to save thousands, maybe we need to be willing to tell one person about Jesus.
Peter didn’t preach himself.
He preached Jesus.
The early church wasn’t built around comfort, convenience, or personal preference. They devoted themselves to teaching, fellowship, breaking bread, and prayer.
They were together.
They were surrendered.
They were bold.
And they were willing to let Jesus change them.
Maybe revival today doesn’t need more people talking about revival.
Maybe it needs more believers living like Jesus is Lord.
Personally, revival might look like repentance, forgiveness, prayer, obedience, getting serious about God’s Word, and putting down the things that have slowly taken His place in our hearts.
Corporately, revival might look like a church that stops worrying about who gets the credit and starts caring about who needs Jesus.
A church where believers pray together, serve together, worship together, forgive one another, and take the Gospel outside the walls.
I looked over at my human.
His coffee cup was empty.
His Bible was still open.
And I figured there was probably a lesson in that.
You see, a dog knows something about following.
When my human gets up, I get up.
When he walks, I walk.
When he stops, I stop.
Maybe that’s part of revival too.
Jesus moves. We follow.
We don’t manufacture revival.
We don’t schedule it.
We don’t manipulate it.
But we can prepare our hearts for God to move by surrendering ourselves completely to Him.
Three thousand people came to Jesus because the Holy Spirit moved and people were willing to proclaim Christ.
So maybe the prayer isn’t simply, “Lord, send revival.”
Maybe it ought to be:
“Lord, start with me.”
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
