On one ordinary day, a small-town man made a decision—not out of ambition, but out of obedience.
He isn’t famous. Just a preacher from a small church down the road from where I grew up. I remember sitting in those pews as a child, part of the Brownies in that Girl Scout kind of way. It’s been more than forty-two years since my mother moved us out of that small town, and I’m sure pastors have come and gone since then.
But that church, it remains fixed in my memory.
Over the years, I’ve watched churches change. I understand changes in leadership, changes in carpet, and changes in paint.
What I’ve struggled to understand is the change of heart.
God created each of us with different gifts, talents, and personalities. He gave us the freedom to choose, but He never gave us permission to reshape His Word to fit our preferences or redefine what He has already established.
As I’ve tried to live out Hebrews 10:25 and not forsake gathering together, I’ll be honest ~ it’s been discouraging. There have been seasons where I have felt lost.
That verse was written for people who are tired, hurting, or in need of encouragement. We are meant to gather together with other believers who help us heal, grow, and keep walking together.
But that hasn’t always been my experience as I’ve searched for a church to call my home. .
I’ve struggled to understand why some churches feel so different today. At times, it seems easier to affirm people than lovingly guide them. I’ve seen accountability become less common, and in some places it can be difficult for newcomers to truly belong. Sometimes I leave wondering whether the focus has shifted from God to ourselves.
Then, miles away from all of that, something entirely different was happening.
A pastor felt led to put up a tent on a patch of dirt and begin seeking revival.
It wasn’t built around a stage or a production. It was simply people gathering under a tent because one pastor believed God was asking him to do it.
No polished image.
No performance.
Just people making room for God.
As I watched updates on Facebook shared by family and friends, something stirred in me. My heart broke open.
People just kept coming.
Hungry for more of God.
Together.
They prayed together. They worshiped together. Their faith seemed simple again, and it reminded me that God hasn’t changed even if churches have. That He’s there waiting for obedience.
Over twenty-two days, the gathering grew from about 100 people to around 500. I’m not sure if that was all at once, but that’s where it ended.
One image has stayed with me.
A local football team standing together beneath that tent with hands on one another, praying.
I kept thinking about that picture.
We’re not only losing grounded believers to confusion; we’re also showing the next generation a version of church that can look a lot like the world they’re already growing up in.
And yet, there they were.
Under a tent.
Standing on dirt.
None of it started with a strategic plan. It started because one pastor believed he should obey what he felt God was asking him to do.
Do I know if every heart remained changed?
I don’t.
But if it could reach me from miles away, I have to believe it left something lasting on the people who stood beneath that tent.
Someone I know who was there described it this way:
“I think the most amazing thing about the revival was the fact that there were no denominations—just God, His people, and curious souls coming together. It was a straight-up, God-kind-of service that saved souls, some for the first time, restored marriages, broke addictions, and healed so many broken hearts. It was so surreal.”
I’ve thought about those words many times since.
Obedience doesn’t have to be impressive to make a difference.
Sometimes it begins with one person willing to say yes.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if we have moved on with the times without God.
Maybe we simply need to remember what God has already told us.
God hasn’t changed.
His Word hasn’t changed.
And our calling to follow Him hasn’t changed either.