I still remember the day I got my permit. I had just passed the test, signed a couple forms, and was ready to enjoy the rest of my night. I walked toward my usual passenger seat until my mother redirected me to the driver's side, and I reluctantly agreed. For a few minutes everything went smoothly, winding through calm backroads, feeling decent about myself. The speed limit was low, there was nobody around, and I was starting to think this whole driving thing wasn't so bad. Then she told me to take a left. Before I could process what was happening, she was coaching me through merging onto I-65. Real lanes, real speeds, and huge semis that felt too close to the bulky Gotshall minivan. It was too late to back out, so I had no choice but to commit. Hands locked on the wheel, heart pounding, I somehow made it home without incident. Once I pulled into the driveway and put it in park, I just sat there for a second. I had walked into the BMV expecting to exit with a piece of plastic and nothing more. Instead, I walked out with a highway debut I was nowhere near ready for, and somehow survived it anyway. I had technically passed the test. But nothing about me felt ready for what I was being asked to do.
The disciples found themselves in a very similar driveway. Except theirs was an upper room in Jerusalem, and what was soon to take place was a little more important than I-65. At this point, Jesus had just ascended into heaven, telling his disciples to wait in Jerusalem. They did so, with over 100 people sitting in an upper room with very little direction for what came next. The man they had watched perform miracles for three years, the man they saw dead and alive again, had physically left them. Because of this, all they could do was wait. Truthfully, they weren’t ready for their savior and teacher to leave them. The waiting didn’t last, as the Holy Spirit descended upon the gathering of believers. Tongues of fire appeared over their heads. They began speaking in languages they had never learned, and devout Jews from every corner of the known world heard them clearly in their own native tongue. The crowd outside was stunned, some even accusing them of being drunk before noon. And then, Peter, the same man who denied Jesus three times just weeks earlier, preached the sermon of his life to thousands of people. He quoted scripture from memory. He made a case for the resurrection so clear and so compelling that the crowd was, as Acts 2:37 says, "cut to the heart." They asked what they were supposed to do. Three thousand people came to faith that single day.
One of the most incredible elements of this chapter is the fact that Peter didn't suddenly become a different person. He was still Peter. Impulsive, rough around the edges, the kind of guy who acts before he thinks. But something had changed inside him, and it wasn't confidence he had built on his own through preparation. Peter had no plan to preach that day. No notes, no reps, and definitely not a heads-up. The ability to find the right words during his speech was dropped into his mind by something higher than himself. I think about how I often try to manufacture this confidence on my own, through means such as endless practice and meticulous planning. Acts 2 is a direct challenge to the idea that God needs the people he calls on to be prepared. The disciples shouldn’t have been ready for this event. Peter’s speech shouldn’t have been this persuasive. The Spirit didn't wait for them to feel equipped. He moved, and then they moved with Him.
There's also something worth noticing at the end of the chapter that doesn't get talked about as much. After the three thousand come to faith, Luke describes what their life together actually looked like. They met daily and shared meals. They even shared all possessions with each other when needed. They transitioned from individuals with their own isolated experiences to a community based in Christ, revealing what God intends the church to achieve through the spirit. It’s easy to think of a faith journey as “something between me and God that I carry around quietly”. But Acts 2 paints a picture where the Spirit's arrival immediately pulls people together rather than sending them off on their own. This illustrates another key characteristic of the Holy Spirit. It not only allows the unprepared to carry out God’s will, it is also the trigger for fellowship between believers.
The question worth sitting with today is this: Where in your life are you waiting to feel ready before you step out? And are there people around you that you've been doing faith alongside, or mostly alone? Because if the disciples had waited for the right feeling, they'd still be in the upper room, nervous and paralyzed. And they probably would have missed everything.
Prayer: God, Open my eyes, and move in me the way you moved in that room. I don't want to keep waiting until I feel ready, because I'm starting to think that feeling might never come on its own. You didn't wait for the disciples to have it all figured out before you showed up, you met them exactly where they were. Do the same for me. Where I've been hesitating, please give me the courage to move. Where I've been doing this alone, bring people around me that I can do life and faith with. And help me not to miss what you're doing because I'm too busy trying to feel ready. I don't want to look back someday and realize I spent all my time in the upper room when you were calling me out the door. Fill the space I'm standing in, and help me not to miss what you're doing right in front of me. Amen.
*Originally written for a Time Alone With God (TAWG) session at Ignite Camp 2026*
Amos Gotshall
Sophomore | Zionsville Community High School