TD Jakes - Ready to Pour
I want you to go to the Gospel of Saint John. I’m currently going through a John phase, but let’s look at the Gospel of Saint John, chapter two—a fairly familiar passage of Scripture. I’m going to read a few verses from it tonight, that we might be edified by that which the Lord supplies. I will read from the King James Version; I started to read it from the NIV, but I’ve decided on the King James Version. We are going to study it tonight. I have preached it many times, but this evening, we are going to study it.
«And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. And both Jesus was called and his disciples to the marriage. And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, 'They have no wine.' Jesus saith unto her, 'Woman, what have I to do with thee? My hour is not yet come.' His mother saith unto the servants, 'Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it.' And there were set there six water pots of stone, after the manner of purifying of the Jews, six of them now containing two or three firkins apiece. Okay, so six pots and thirty firkins would be comparable to about thirty gallons. He saith unto them, 'Fill the water pots with water.' So they must have been empty, and they filled them to the brim. And he saith unto them, 'Draw out now and bear unto the governor of the feast.' And they buried it. When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and knew not whence it was (but the servants which drew the water knew), the governor of the feast called the bridegroom and saith unto him, 'Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now.' This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth his glory; and his disciples believed on him.» Can you say amen?
I want to use the subject «Ready to Pour,» so jot that down—"Ready to Pour,» because we are going to talk a little bit from this text tonight on that subject. I believe that God is going to bless you through the Word of God tonight. It is my prayer, my hope, and my aim.
Let’s backtrack a little bit and start from the beginning. First of all, I want you to realize that we are in the Gospel of Saint John. John is not one of the synoptic gospels; he is not Matthew, Mark, and Luke, which are the synoptic gospels, but John provides a different approach to the text that comes later in the canonization of Scripture. He shares a word—he is younger than the other disciples, and he shares some things that are not shared elsewhere. There are several stories that he shares throughout the Gospel of Saint John that you won’t find anywhere else, such as the woman at the well and many other things that he shares.
Another distinctive that I think is interesting about the Gospel of Saint John is that while Matthew, Mark, and Luke focus themselves on proving that Christ is the Messiah, John does not concern himself with trying to prove to the Jews that Christ is the Messiah. This could be in part because, by the time he wrote, the Jews had already rejected him as the Messiah, and further conversation about the authenticity of his lineage was not necessary. Or, it could be that John deals with the deeper and more pertinent issue of who Christ is to God.
John starts off his writing in John 1:1: «In the beginning was the Word.» We have not seen any book open with «In the beginning» since the book of Genesis: «In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.» John goes all the way back to creation; «In the beginning was the Word.» Before there was the earth, there was the Word. Before there was a star, there was the Word. Before there was a planet, there was the Word. «In the beginning was the Word.» The Word there in Greek is «Logos"—the thoughts and mind and speaking of God.
«And the Word was with God, and the Word was God. All things were made by him, and without him, was not anything made that was made.» So John does not talk about Abraham; he doesn’t talk about Rahab; he doesn’t talk about him being the son of David. He does not go through all of the lineage of Jesus Christ at all. He goes directly back to Jesus being God incarnate and proves it. He goes on in his discussion and ultimately says, «The Word was made flesh» (John 1:14).
Think about that: what a miracle! The Word was made flesh. It’s like if I spoke something, and it came out as a person. «And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld the wonder of his glory, the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.»
By the time we get to John chapter two, which is where we are going to focus tonight, I have always found it extremely fascinating that in chapter one, he is showing us the very divinity of Christ—that Christ is God incarnate, made flesh, God made human; that Christ is the God-man, and that we bear the wonder of his glory, the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. From that lofty pinnacle, that high place of understanding that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, that Christ is not just a prophet (as some religions teach) but is indeed the God-man.
The Bible says, I think in 1 Timothy, «And without controversy, great is the mystery of godliness: for God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, believed on in the world, and received up into glory.» So John chapter one is dealing with the God-man, not just a good man, Jesus Christ, who was not only the facilitator of creation—all things were made by him, and without him, was not anything made that was made—and in him was life, and the life was the light of man. The light shined in darkness—let there be light! The light shined in the darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.
It’s all talking about Jesus from this lofty pinnacle, dealing with the pre-incarnate Christ and then, in 1:14, the incarnation of Christ, which is an amazing development—that that Word would be made flesh, that God would come in human form, that God would honor the principles talked about, «a man that is born of a woman"—that God would humble Himself and allow Himself to be born of a woman and be made flesh and dwell among us, Emmanuel, God tabernacling with us.
God is to dwell among us; He is not the God who dwells in sanctuaries made by hands or buildings. If God were dwelling in sanctuaries, we would be in trouble right now, for those that have services that are closed would be in trouble. But God has never intended to dwell in sanctuaries; He preferred rather to dwell among us, and the «dwell among us» God, by the book of Acts, would be the «dwell in us» God—Christ in you, the hope of glory.
The Apostle Paul would write that the God who was afar now dwells among us, and then ultimately dwells in us. He was afar, then He dwelt among us, and now He dwells in us. It’s powerful! He dwells in us without losing any of His omnipotence, omniscience, or omnipresence. He is both in me and around me; in Him, I live and move and have my being. So, I am in Him, and He is in me.
It’s difficult to understand, but follow me—I’m going somewhere with this. I said all of that to point out that we are standing in a high place of understanding God. We are standing on a mountaintop of revelation from which we can see the high place of understanding God.
From that lofty pinnacle, we transition to John chapter two. John chapter two opens up like a scene in a movie. Scene one: we see His divinity, His creatorial power; we see Him as Elohim, in all of His divinity, all of His authority, and all of His magnificence. Then, we see Him dwelling among us and becoming flesh in us. And in scene one, we see His miraculous power and everything we’ve talked about in John 1 is holy and divine.
John 2 opens up, and He is at a party. We went from way up here to a scene that is the most human thing imaginable—Jesus and His disciples were at a party. Now, if He were alive today, we would likely criticize Him; we would go on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook and start writing blogs about Him, saying, «What is Pastor Jesus doing at this party?» Everyone’s drinking, listening to music, and having a great time.
But according to Jewish tradition, you must understand that they did not see everything as worldly as we do. Jesus was invited to a wedding, and He attended with His twelve disciples. Here Jesus is with His twelve disciples at a wedding party. I don’t know if they were doing the slide and all the stuff we do now at parties, but we are clear that they were eating and drinking. We see in this story that the governor, who was at the feast, mentions the fact that once people have well drunk—implying intoxication—generally at a party like this, they pour out the cheap wine. So we know that this was not just a religious party.
We should not picture the Vatican or some sanctimonious, ritualistic celebration like what some have as church events today. Jesus was just one of the people in the crowd with His twelve disciples. His mother was there, too; it was a gathering of friends and family. He wasn’t sneaking in; He didn’t go in the back door; He didn’t climb in the window. He was there.
But it is amazing to think about the fact that Jesus was at this party after being in chapter one in glory, surrounded by the host of heaven, creation, creating the mountains and seas and oceans and the wind and waves. And then enveloping Himself in humanity and being wrapped up in the cape of flesh, He comes out and dwells among us as mentioned in John 1:14.
All of this is divine business, redemptive business, creative business. He is God in creation; He is Son in redemption. All of this is the kind of language we see in chapter one. And in chapter two, He is simply a guest at a party—just one in the crowd, hanging out, not losing His sense of normalcy. This is something that I think is lost on the contemporary church today.
Some sects, in particular, more than others—not all Christian people are like this, but some have lost their sense of normalcy. In an attempt to be more like Jesus, they have actually become less like Him. They think being more like Jesus means to be sanctimonious, pious, religious, and as different as possible. But really, being like Jesus is being one among them. Jesus was so much like the people of His day in appearance and dress that when the Romans got ready to arrest Him, they had to hire Judas to point Him out. There was nothing outwardly distinct about Him; nothing sanctimonious about Jesus matched the Pharisees.
The Pharisees were known for their long robes and long prayers and all ritualistic things that they did. But not about Jesus—He just looked like one of the fellows. He was at a party in chapter two, and the celebration was ongoing. Then, in the midst of the celebration, the Bible tells us that His mother comes to Jesus and says, «Hey Jesus, we have a problem. They have no wine.» Either they had more guests than they expected or the guests drank more than anticipated, or maybe they were on a budget. For whatever reason, they have run out of wine.
I doubt they were completely on a budget because for this kind of elaborate party—if you study out weddings after the traditions of the Jews during this period—a wedding could go on for days. The wealthy were primarily the ones who threw such long elaborate parties, which could afford to host guests for an extended time. But, for some reason, they have no wine.
They have run out of wine, and Jesus is kind of exasperated. John is the only one who lets us listen in on this conversation. Now, John is the only one; nobody else lets us listen in on this conversation, even though we know all the disciples were there. None of them talked about it—not Matthew, not Mark, not Luke—but John, who perhaps by virtue of his youth, is more open to sharing discretionary information. He sees something valuable happening in an ordinary situation. God often does His best work in ordinary circumstances; it’s not always in pious places with steeples and stained glass windows. It’s not always in the midst of orthodox religiosity that God does His best work, but in plain, natural settings with ordinary materials like fish and loaves of bread.
God often performs His best work with ordinary substances like wheat and grain. He often does His best work with hands full of meal. He often does His best work with things like the jawbone of an ass in the middle of a desert. God often does His best work with things right around us every day. Here we are in a very natural setting, having an explosive moment, and we are even able to witness this moment by allowing ourselves to overhear what is almost a dispute between Jesus and His mother. She comes to Jesus and says, «Son, we have no wine.» He is now her fully grown son; He’s 30 years old. She says, «We have no wine,» and He responds, «Oh mama! Have you ever said that at all? Mama, what am I to do with you? My hour has not yet come. I’m really not ready to show them who I am yet.»
But because His mother already knows who He is, and not only who He is but what He can do—nobody would know better than her. She carried Him; she was impregnated during her virginity. She knows He is divine. She is now asking Him for the first recorded time to expose His divinity, and why not? Because someone is lame or crippled? Not because someone is hemorrhaging, not because someone is blind, halting, or leprous; no, the big problem is, «We have no wine. We ran out of wine.» That’s a big problem. Jesus says, «What am I to do with you? My hour has not yet come.» This is not how I expected to make my debut. She doesn’t even respond to His rebuttal. She just turns around and speaks to the servants and says, «Whatever He tells you to do, do it.»
Look at the faith she had, even though she didn’t get the response that I’m sure she expected. Look at the faith she had to know that it was settled; it’s going to happen. «Whatever He tells you to do, do it.» She knew something was going to happen and walked away. She didn’t stand around to see it, to watch it, and it’s the first miracle. She doesn’t stand around to see how He’s going to execute it; she doesn’t supervise it. A lot of us pray, and then we want to supervise how God handles it. We say we’ve given it to God, but we really haven’t given it to God because we’re trying to dictate to God how He should handle things in our marriage, our finances, with our children, our parents, our pastors, our leaders, our bosses, and our jobs. We try to oversee God.
«God, I want you to move her out of that position, and I want you to show everybody who she is.» No, no, no, no, no, no, no. She doesn’t tell Him how to do it; she doesn’t even tell Him what to do. She just says, «We have no wine,» and it is understood that it is her expectation that He fix the problem. She now says to the servants, who have been standing over in the corner watching—you would dare not get into this conversation as a servant—she says, «Whatever He tells you to do, do it.»
Now, this is where it gets really good. Are you with me? This is where it really, really starts to get good. All of a sudden, the Bible says in verse six that there were set there six water pots of stone after the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three firkins apiece. The pots of stone were there for the rites of purification, which was normal, but they were empty. There were six of them, okay? Two or three firkins would be about 30 gallons of water. They had the capacity to hold it. Wonder how much capacity you have. Are you asking for more than you have the capacity to hold? All of us only have a certain capacity. Like the pots, we were only built to hold so much—only so much weight, only so much glory, only so much responsibility. Do you not know that God has measured your capacity?
When God measures your capacity, it indicates to us how dangerous it is to compare ourselves with other people who have other capacities. Your too much might not be my too much; your too little might not be my too little, so you can’t always put your mouth into my business and tell me what I ought to do based on your capacity. God has measured your capacity, and as our days are, so shall thy strength be. God has equipped you with what you need to do what He wants you to do, but He did not build you for somebody else’s capacity. So you can’t let everybody dump everything on top of you, and you can’t let everybody give you their assignment. The assignments of God are not always transferable, and you have to recognize that God has already, before He does anything, considered your capacity—your capacity for pressure, your capacity for weight, your capacity for frustration, your capacity for controversy—your capacity.
Don’t ask for something that’s beyond your capacity. That’s something I want you to get out of this text tonight. God is so careful that He’s measured your capacity before He uses you. He knew how many were over there; He knew what their capacities were; He knew exactly what it took to get it done. The Bible says that they have measured it out, and Jesus said to the disciples, to the servants who were standing around, «Fill the water pots with water,» and they filled them up to the brim. Lord have mercy! There’s so much I want to talk about that because I know what it’s like to be filled to the brim and can’t take another thing. That alarm that goes off in your spirit that says, «That’s enough.»
Some of you are at your capacity. You have reached your volume. You are filled to the brim; you can’t take another drop. Don’t take another drop! Cut off the phone; do what you need to do because you’re filled to the brim. Type that, «I’m filled to the brim,» if you are. I’m filled to the brim, but what I want you to go back and see is deeper than the feeling of being filled to the brim, because you have to know, as well as God knows, when it’s enough. The waitress comes over to the table, and she’s pouring coffee into the cup or cream into the cup, and she says, «Say when.» You have to be wise enough to be able to say when—to say, «You know what? I’m filled to the brim. I’m at my capacity.»
But before we get lost in the nuances of capacity, I also want to revisit this other big word: resource. We know the pots were empty, so they had to take the pot somewhere to fill them, whether it was a lake, a pond, a stream, or something of that matter—whether they went to a well, they had to go someplace to fill the pots. It was a servant’s job to take the water, watch this, out of its natural element and put it in the pot. To take the water out of its natural element and put it in the pot—oh my God! To take the water out of its element and put it in the pot—are you willing to be taken out of your natural element and placed into something foreign? I want to tell you today that as long as you stay in what is natural and comfortable for you, you will never see what you could be; you will only see what you are. As long as the water stayed in the stream or in the creek or in the well, the only thing it would ever be was water.
The only hope it had of changing its composition, of experiencing something new, and of having a different ending was to leave the familiarity and comfort that comes from staying in the stream of what is natural to you. I want that to sink in: as long as you stay in the stream, you will never be—you will never be used in higher places. The stream is too low; it’s too comfortable. It may be cool and refreshing, but it will never be invited into the room. You will never get in the room if you stay in the stream.
Now, the water has no choice; you have choice. The water has no will; you have a will. The water has no mouth; you have a mouth, and here’s where some problems arise. Sometimes, sometimes your mouth is the problem; your will is the problem; your choice is the problem because you could resist the call to come out of the stream of what’s easy for you. You could say something and do something and say, «I don’t want to. I refuse. I’m not going,» but the water was not like that. It had to go; it had to go. But God, when He talks to us, says, «Who will go and work for us? Who will leave your stream to reach your potential?» Oh my God, that’s so good! Who will leave your stream to reach your potential? Who will separate from the flow of the familiar and be willing to be poured into the foreign in order to become the fantastic? You have to be willing to be poured into the foreign in order to become fantastic.
Now, the text says that they were filled to the brim, and we know for sure that they were filled with water because the Bible says they were filled with water. That is to say, getting it out of the stream and filling it into the stone decanters; it was not turned into wine as it came out of the stream. It was filled with water because the Bible says, «Look over here, look over here, look over here, look over here.» The Bible says in verse 9, in the middle of verse 9, but the servants, which drew the water, knew—they knew it was water. They knew from whence it came; they knew it was water. They filled the water pots with water. Their water pots are filled with water! They fill it with water. What is unique is that they had the courage to be poured out.
Are you ready to pour? Because to me, that’s when this miracle gets amazing. We know it was water in the stream; we know it was water in the pot, but when they got ready to pour it, it became something that it never ever would have been had it stayed where it was. Some of you are so upset because God has been disruptive in this season. Everything seemingly that could be shaken has been shaken. It’s been disruptive, uprooted, chaotic. Our norms have been broken. The tragedy, the stress we carry right now—it’s just a loss of normalcy! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! I’m out of my stream! I’m out of my norm! I’ve lost my routine; I’ve lost my sense of the familiar! Stop! 20-20! Oh, let it happen! Be over! 22! Stop saying that you don’t want to give not one day of your life away. Stop saying that!
I know you’re uncomfortable; I am too. I know you don’t like it; I don’t either. I know it’s stressful; I feel it too. But I would rather have a stressful day than a dead day. I’m still here. I may have had to adapt from being in a stream to being in the close confinement of a water pot, but I’m still here. I may be pressed in, but I’m still here. I may be filled to the brim, but I am still here. The servants are carrying water, and they begin to pour it out, and as they were poured out, something happened. It is here in the pouring place—write that down—the pouring place. It is here in the pouring place that we begin to see what John chapter 2 has to do with John chapter 1.
Let’s go back to John chapter 1 for a minute and look at it because there’s something there we have to see. John chapter 1, verse 14, which I referred to earlier, is where I want to get back to, and I want to get back to it for a reason. In John chapter 1, verse 14—let me find it. Yeah, there it is. And the Word was made flesh! Oh, now I see why this text is up against this other text. It’s not about the party; it’s not about the music; it’s not about the dancing; it’s not even about the wedding. It’s about this transformative moment that the Word is supposed to always be the Word and flesh is supposed to always be flesh. There’s always a line between those two things. That which is of the flesh is flesh; that which is of the Spirit is spirit. But here, they traded places, and the Word was made flesh.
The Bible says about the incarnation of Jesus Christ that the Holy Ghost came upon Mary, and she conceived that which she conceived by the Holy Ghost, something spiritual crossed over into something human, and the Word was made flesh. The abstract became concrete, the invisible became visible, and the intangible became touchable. In John 1:14, boom! The Word—we know what it was. It was the Word in chapter one; it was the Word in verse one; it was the Word in verse two; it was the Word in verse three. It was the Word, and with verse four, all the way down to verse thirteen, it was the Word in verse fourteen. The Word was made flesh. Could God Almighty—something that would have never normally been—flesh was flesh, and Word was Word. But in 1:14, the Word was made flesh.
Now, when we look over here at John chapter 2, and we start reading at verse 9, we see water carried in the six water pots, each containing thirty gallons. That’s 180 gallons of water brought into this wedding. This must be a big wedding; it wasn’t just some family and a few friends for 180 gallons of water to be brought in. We know it was water, and the servants had carried it. And as they poured out, the water was made wine. The Word was made flesh, and the water was made wine. You will never become what you can be until you are poured out. For all of you who are filled to the brim and can’t take any more, are you ready to pour? It’s time to pour.
It’s time to pour out through service, through love, through giving, through sowing, through singing, through poetry, through planning, through preparation. Find a way to pour out what you are filled with. Pour it out! You are not designed to hold it; you were designed to pour. Are you ready to pour, or are you just going to sit there and stew? Are you going to spend the rest of your life stewing about this and that, lamenting what you missed out on? Or are you ready to pour? Because something happens when you pour that you won’t experience when you stay put.
It’s like what happened to the ten lepers. Jesus spoke a word to them, but it didn’t seem like it worked; he said, «Go show yourself to the priest.» It looked like there was nothing to show, but the Bible says they were healed as they went. It’s kind of like the two fish and five loaves of bread. We have done an audit on what was given to Jesus; we know exactly what it was: two fish and five loaves of bread. That’s all there was to it. But as He took it, blessed it, and broke it, it began to multiply in the breaking.
I’m telling you, when you are extended, when you are poured out—when you are serving, doing, giving, and ministering—you transform into something you could have never been otherwise. If He had sent them down to the orchard to get grapes, the text would make more sense. It would still be a miracle because turning grapes into wine involves fermentation, waiting, and separation—there’s a process. Eventually, grapes can become wine. But no matter how long you keep water, it will never naturally turn into wine.
But for this very first miracle, God teaches us that the transformative power of the divine occurs in the pouring out. And who better to teach it than Jesus? Because Jesus is God poured out to us. Unto us a Son is born, unto us a Child is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulders, and of His kingdom there shall be no end. Jesus was God being poured out to us—His divinity, His authority, His glory, His unlimited presence—all missional. Jesus is God being poured out so that the divine might become human, that the celestial might appear to rest on us, that the supernatural might appear in the carpenter’s house as natural. When God was poured out, He transformed into something beyond Himself without losing Himself.
Good God! When the water was poured out, it transformed into something it could have never been if it stayed in the stream. Are you going to stay in the stream, or are you going to pour? Your miracle is in the pouring; it’s not in the comfortability of your stream. My question for you tonight is: Are you ready to pour, or are you just going to sit there and stew, complain, bicker, and talk about what needs to be done in the world?
They poured out six stone water pots filled with 180 gallons of water, which were separated from the stream and became wine. 180 gallons! That’s a lot of wine, but it’s nothing compared to what they left in the stream. When they dipped into the stream, the moment they dipped, it replaced whatever they had taken away. You could see no vacancy in the stream; water doesn’t work that way. There was more in the stream than there was in the pot.
180 gallons of wine met the need, stopped the problem, shifted the dynamics, and converted its own elements, its own infrastructure, from water to wine. The miracle was in the pouring.
Now, I am asking you: Are you ready to pour? Some of you will hear this message and think about it, perhaps taking notes, or you may send a praise text or tweet. That’s fine. But some of you are facing important decisions. You are at a crossroad where you need God to do something mighty in your life. You have no wine, and you need to be innovative and creative in this moment. You need God to touch something that is not so it might become what is.
This is not wine, but it became wine. I’m going to believe God with you. Maybe it’s just an elite group of people—maybe ten of you, maybe twelve of you, or maybe a thousand. I don’t know how many it is; I can’t see you. But as we close tonight, to whoever that is, I’m going to sow 180 seeds and believe God, because this is a time that has demanded of me.
It’s not that I wanted to do it; it demanded that I pour out. I thought, «God, this is the wrong time for me to have to work this hard. I’m getting older; the pandemic did not let me rest.» I had to pour out or lose everything. I had to go the extra mile—teaching more, ministering more, holding things together, meeting with more people. I had to stretch myself more than I wanted to be stretched without the benefit of my normal schedule. I had to turn down engagements, cancel meetings, and change conferences. I had to change the way we did everything.
It was uncomfortable and frustrating. We’re not used to doing virtual meetings! I had to reinvent myself and reorganize my whole structure. I’m talking to somebody; I don’t know who it is.
In order to do this, you have to change everything around. It can’t be water and wine. You’re going to have to turn it into wine, honey! You have to turn it into wine, and if God doesn’t help you, it can’t be done. It’s not your normal; it’s not your routine! You can either bellyache about it, or you can move in this transition and become what God wants you to be. The symbolism of our sowing is our willingness to pour.
Are you ready to pour? I’m going to sow my 180, but it doesn’t stop with the offering and the seed that I sow. That’s just symbolic of the fact that I’m ready to pour. I’m ready to make the transition. I’m ready to reinvent; I’m ready to transform. My organization is going through a metamorphosis! I have films being shot under conditions we’ve never had to face before.
People have to be tested before coming on set; everybody is wearing masks while going through their lines, and we’re trying to shoot a movie with social distancing. All of this is happening at the same time, and we’re having to transform.
Everything is out of kilter and out of place, but I’m willing to go with it. I don’t want to be left in the stream of «coulda,» «woulda,» and «shoulda.» If it had not been—blame COVID! Even in the midst of the barrenness of COVID—and even in the midst of the lack of wine, as my grandmother would say, «just slap out of wine"—there’s not another drop! God does miracles in barrenness. Some of you are in barren situations; God can still work for you.
Now, I want to talk to those that don’t even have 180 and cannot sow that amount. You’re in a situation where you need God to do some things in your life. I want you to understand something: God never asks of you something that you do not have. He didn’t ask anything of the servants except obedience. Are you willing to serve? You may not be able to sow, but are you willing to serve? Serve God by serving your community, serving His people, serving His church, serving your fellow man. Are you willing to serve? You may not have the 180 that we’re going to sow, but you have something. Are you willing to serve?
Are you willing to get on the phone and encourage somebody? Are you willing to check on your neighbor down the street—five doors away, the elderly lady you haven’t seen in a couple of days? Are you willing to check on her, bring her food, or run some errands for her, leaving them on her front porch? Are you ready to pour?
Everyone under the sound of my voice needs to be pouring out something. Are you ready to pour? Can I go on your Instagram page and see ministry and life, or is it just full of foolishness? You can do something! You might not be able to do the 180, but you can do something.
Thank you to all of you who are sowing, and thank you for your support. You can do something; you can post something, you can say something, you can write something, you can sing something, you can help somebody. You can do something because the transformative power of God will always happen in the pouring. So my text to you is not a statement but a question: Are you ready to pour? Only you can answer that.
Father, as we close today, I thank You for what You have spoken. I thank You for what You have decreed. I thank You for every person under the sound of my voice who is having an encounter with You at this moment, being challenged and charged to use their platform, voice, or the vehicle of their ability to make a difference in the world today. I pray, God, that You would move them out of the water pots and have them ready to pour to those whom You challenge to sow a special seed tonight. I thank You, Lord, that as they sow that seed, it is the beginning of a commitment to be transformative in their thinking, innovative in their business, in their life, in their affairs, in their church, and in their ministry—willing to come out of the stream of normal, insisting on being relevant in these times we are living in today. Let them come together and be ready to pour.
I also pray for every leader and every pastor that they go back and work with their team to turn the headwater into wine, to turn that problem into power, to turn that pressure into promise. If You leave it as it is, it’s going to fall apart. If You don’t change, it will die. I pray, God, that You give them innovative ideas and inspire them with concepts that they are ready to pour. For the business leader, the business owner, and the person whose mortgage has gone into foreclosure, who has only a few days to make a move and change things around, I pray, God, that You give them innovative concepts and ideas right now, ready to pour. In Jesus' name, in Jesus' name, devil, back up! In Jesus' name, amen.
I also pray for every leader and every pastor that they go back and work with their team to turn the headwater into wine, to turn that problem into power, to turn that pressure into promise. If You leave it as it is, it’s going to fall apart. If You don’t change, it will die. I pray, God, that You give them innovative ideas and inspire them with concepts that they are ready to pour. For the business leader, the business owner, and the person whose mortgage has gone into foreclosure, who has only a few days to make a move and change things around, I pray, God, that You give them innovative concepts and ideas right now, ready to pour. In Jesus' name, in Jesus' name, devil, back up! In Jesus' name, amen.