Psalm 52:8 ~ “But as for me, I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the mercy of God forever and ever.”
What if the greatest move of God in your life began when you least expected it, right in the middle of your order of service? What if revival doesn’t wait for the final song or the closing prayer? God isn’t looking for a perfect presentation; He’s looking for a prepared people, willing and waiting to be interrupted. You say you want God to move, but do you truly make room for His movement? You have your bulletins printed, your time slots defined, and your transitions planned, but often, Heaven has an agenda that doesn’t fit your earthly timelines.
And when God interrupts, it is never random, it’s always divine. His interruptions are actually invitations into a deeper dimension of His Presence. They are moments and then there are moments when eternity invades time, when Glory overrides order, and when the Spirit declares, “This moment is Mine.” For “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” 2 Corinthians 3:17.
When the Spirit breaks in, freedom follows. Chains fall. Tears flow. Worship rises from the places you didn’t know were dry. Deliverance meets desperation. Healing rushes in like a mighty flood. What you once called a “disruption,” God calls divine intervention. These are not accidents; they are appointments. When God comes in the room, protocol must bow. You must trade predictability for His Presence and surrender structure for His Spirit.
Too often, you come into services with your minds already made up. You’ve boxed in God’s movement, setting your expectations according to your tradition, not revelation. You rehearse encounters rather than hosting them. But the early church knew something that you had forgotten about, God moves best in the unpredictable.
In Acts 2, it wasn’t a scheduled program that birthed the church, it was a divine interruption of wind and fire. Heaven didn’t wait for permission; it responded to hunger. Heaven is not interested in your rehearsed performances; it longs for a people who say, “Lord, have Your way, even if it wrecks my plans.” When God interrupts, it might feel uncomfortable, but it is always Holy. It might stretch you, but it always marks you. May you never value a clean outline more than a cloud of His Glory. Let the Spirit do what no human hand can orchestrate.
Ask yourself, are you inviting God in, or just informing Him of your itinerary? There is a difference between hosting the Presence and having a religious gathering. One invites encounter. The other entertains the crowd. God is not coming for another show; He’s coming for a surrendered and yielded vessel. It’s time for a shift. A Holy hunger must rise. Not for another sermon. Not for a good choir set. But for the Glory of God to descend and do what no man can do.
You must walk into the sanctuary with expectation in your heart and on your mind, not entertainment. With brokenness, not performance. Let’s repent for trying to orchestrate what only the Holy Spirit can conduct. It’s time to return to your first love, where your heartbeat faster in expectation, not for the next program point, but for the next divine touch. When you gather, let it not be for routine, but for revelation. May you be a people who prioritize God’s Presence over performance, and glory over good intentions!
Let’s Pray:
Father, Thank You! Father, I acknowledge You as the Sovereign One, the God who dwells in unapproachable light yet chooses to draw near to His people. Forgive me Lord, for every time I entered Your house with an agenda rather than an appetite for Your Presence. Forgive me for the times that I was more committed to the program than to Your Presence. Father, I confess that my schedules have often become stumbling blocks, and my routines have restrained the river of Your Spirit. Please forgive me. Father, I humbly ask You to interrupt me now. Not as a divine inconvenience, but as a Holy collision with the will of Heaven. Step into my day and order it with Your Anointing. Step into my outlines with Your overshadowing. I give You full access, interrupt our worship, interrupt our messages, and interrupt our silence, until everything in us is realigned with Your purpose for our lives. Let Your Spirit hover over every gathering like in the days of Acts, until wind and fire break out and revival flows from the altar. Shake us out of our complacency, Father. Stir our spirit until we are no longer content with church as usual. Birth within us a desperate hunger for You that overrides our desire for comfort and control. May the pulpits be altars again. May the sanctuaries become birthing rooms for God’s Glory. May the pews be filled with expectation, not spectatorship. Let the fire fall, not for sensation, but for sanctification. Father, I pray that we surrender our microphones, our music, our minutes, and our movement to You, Father, take over every space, from the greeters at the door to the preacher on the stage, let Your children be one unified body that bows to the Presence of the King. Let Your Spirit lead us with precision, passion, and purity. Let our service not just impress people but transform hearts. Let divine encounter override every fleshly plan. Let the sound of Heaven drown out the noise of man. Let spontaneous worship erupt. Let repentance flow like a river. Let testimonies arise in the middle of teaching. Let healing take place without an altar call. Let Your Spirit fall so thick that no one dares move until You are done. May Your name be exalted, not ours. May Your Glory linger, not just visit. Father, I declare that all gatherings are now governed by and for Your Glory. Father, I pray that miracles will interrupt announcements, and that Your Spirit will redefine our flow. Father, I prophesy that the interrupted places will become the incubators of divine demonstration. I decree that the days of dry services are over. Rain on us, Lord, until we are drenched in You. In the Name of Jesus Christ, the One who flipped tables and filled temples, I pray, Amen!
Blessings…
Love, Dr. Jean
