Preparing for a move of God 

They were not ready, yet they were ready. That is the mystery and mercy of God. In Acts chapter 2, we witness a move of God that transformed everything, not just for the disciples but for the whole world. The Holy Spirit came, not because they had earned it, but because they had waited. They didn’t fully understand what was coming. They didn’t have a strategy. They didn’t know how to steward revival. But they were together. And they were obedient.

So often, we cry out for a move of God but remain unwilling to be still long enough to receive it. We seek Pentecost moments without succumbing to the Pentecost posture — waiting in unity, obedience, and prayer. The upper room was not a conference or a campaign. It was not a church growth strategy. It was a room full of weak men and women clinging to a promise they didn’t fully comprehend. That is where God moves — among the humble, the hungry, and the hopeful.

One of the most striking aspects of Acts 2 is that it came suddenly. "Suddenly, a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house..." (Acts 2:2). Not slowly, not after a carefully timed sermon or a campaign. Suddenly, the move of God does not operate on our calendar. But it always comes in response to surrender. The wind did not come because they had fasted long enough or prayed well enough. It came because God had promised. And they believed enough to wait.

We misunderstand preparation if we think it means perfecting ourselves. God is not waiting for us to be impressive. He is waiting for us to be available. The disciples weren’t impressive — they had abandoned Jesus, doubted His resurrection, and feared the authorities. But when the Spirit came, it came not because of their record but because of their posture. They were ready in the only way that matters: they were surrendered.

There is no revival without repentance. There is no power without purity. But purity is not sinlessness — it is honesty before God. When Peter stood to speak, he did not stand as a polished theologian. He stood as a man forgiven and filled. He spoke with authority not because of credentials, but because he had been with Jesus and now carried His Spirit. Many want the fire of Pentecost without the surrender of the upper room. But there is no shortcut to the power of God.

In preparing for a move of God, we must first examine our hearts. Are we seeking Him or merely what He gives? Are we longing for His presence or just His power? The people in that upper room had lost everything — their plans, their Messiah, their comfort. And yet they waited. That is faith. That is preparation. They didn’t know what the wind would sound like. They didn’t anticipate the tongues of fire. They couldn’t foresee the crowd, the sermon, or the 3,000 souls. But they waited in faith.

This kind of waiting is not passive. It is spiritual alertness. They were not bored. They were expectant. God moves where there is expectancy. The moment we think we can manage revival, we have lost it. The Holy Spirit is not a programme. He is a Person. He does not come because we are ready, but because we are yielded. The fire fell not on the talented or the educated, but on the available.

Today, God still looks for upper rooms. Not grand buildings or eloquent prayers, but humble hearts. Are we willing to wait? Are we willing to be undignified, misunderstood, and interrupted? The Spirit came as wind and fire — forces that disrupt and disturb. A move of God will not leave your schedule untouched. It will shake your preferences, your pride, and your control. But it will birth the Church anew.

We must prepare — not by polishing our performance, but by posturing our hearts. Like those first disciples, we wait. We pray. We repent. We worship. And we do it together. A divided room will never birth revival. Unity matters. Holiness matters. Obedience matters. And in His mercy, He still comes. Not because we deserve it, but because Jesus has made the way.

Let us not miss what He longs to do because we are too busy, too proud, or too distracted. Let us be found in the upper room, ready not in strength but in surrender. For when the wind blows again, may it find us waiting. And may it be said of us, as it was then, that the world was never the same.