The Voice in the Wilderness
Originally delivered at New Hope Community Church in Brentwood, TN on February 2, 2025
Preparing the Way
Have you ever had one of those moments where, as the words are leaving your mouth, you know you're making a terrible mistake? I had one of those back in 2014. I had just started my first "real" job at an advertising agency, and I was so excited that I went straight from work and bought an engagement ring for my girlfriend, Cassy. Which would have been great... if I hadn't immediately called to tell her about it.
Now, for those of you who are single, or who have been married so long you've forgotten how this works, let me give you some free advice: If you buy an engagement ring, maybe don't tell the person you're planning to give it to. And if you do slip up and tell them – definitely don't then wait 18 months to actually propose. Yes, you heard that right. Eighteen months. I can see some of you women doing the math in your heads right now, and yes, it was exactly as bad as you're thinking. See, shortly after buying the ring, I lost that advertising job. And I just couldn't bring myself to ask her parents for permission to marry their daughter with the stellar pitch of, "I know I don't have a job right now, but I'll definitely get one. Probably. Eventually. Maybe?"
So I waited. And waited. And waited. And Cassy... well, let's just say she practiced patience. A lot of patience. The kind of patience that occasionally came with pointed questions like, "So... remember that ring you bought? The one that's apparently in witness protection somewhere?" We did eventually get married – October 1st, 2016, for those wondering if this story has a happy ending. But that season of waiting, have you ever waited for something so long that you started to wonder if it would ever actually happen? Maybe it was waiting to hear back about a job – checking your email every few minutes, jumping every time your phone buzzes. Or waiting for medical test results – each day feeling like an eternity as you try to stay positive but can't help wondering "what if?" Or maybe you've had a loved one deployed overseas, and you're counting down the days until they come home, but the days just seem to stretch on and on.
That feeling of anticipation, mixed with uncertainty, maybe even doubt – it can be overwhelming.
You know what I mean, right? That knot in your stomach, the way time seems to slow down, how you try to stay hopeful but sometimes catch yourself wondering if what you're waiting for will ever really happen. We've all been there. But here's what's amazing – imagine multiplying that feeling of waiting not by days or weeks or months, but by centuries.
A Season of Waiting
That's exactly where the Jewish people found themselves when our story begins. They had been waiting for the promised Messiah for over 400 years. That's like if we were still waiting for something promised during the time of the Mayflower! And not only were they waiting, but God seemed silent. No prophets. No divine messages. Nothing. The last words they had received from God were through the prophet Malachi, who had told them to watch for a messenger who would prepare the way for the Lord.
And then... silence.
Generation after generation passed. Children grew up hearing the stories of God's promises. They told these stories to their children, who told them to their children. But still they waited.
And then something happened. Something big. And the person God chose to tell this story first might surprise you. His name was John Mark, and early in his Christian life, he was known as something of a failure. He had started out as a missionary with Paul and Barnabas – Barnabas was actually his cousin – but when things got tough, he quit and went home. Paul was so disappointed in Mark that he refused to work with him again, and it actually caused a split between Paul and Barnabas. But here's what I love about this story – it doesn't end there. God wasn't done with Mark. Over time, Mark matured in his faith. He became close to the apostle Peter, who became like a spiritual mentor to him. In fact, most of what we read in this Gospel comes from Peter's own sermons of his time with Jesus. That's why it feels so immediate, so action-packed – we're getting Peter's eyewitness account through Mark's pen. And by the end of his life, even Paul had completely changed his mind about Mark, calling him "very useful to me for ministry."
Think about that – the person God chose to write the very first Gospel was someone who had failed, someone who had quit, someone who needed a second chance. That tells us something beautiful about God, doesn't it? He doesn't just use perfect people. Probably because they don’t exist, but no, He uses real people, with real struggles and real failures, to accomplish His purposes. So, when Mark sits down to tell us about it, he does something that might seem strange to us. He skips the beginning. No journey to Bethlehem. No stable. No angels appearing to Mary. No shepherds keeping watch by night. No wise men following a star. Where’s Christmas? We're just flying right past all of that? Right past the nativity scene that we put up every December?
You know, if Mark were writing today, I think some church worship leaders might have a slight panic attack. I mean, imagine - no Christmas story means no Christmas songs! What would we do without those 147 different versions of "Little Drummer Boy" that start playing in stores right after Halloween? But in all seriousness, it's fascinating that Mark - writing the very first Gospel – starts with a different scene.
You see, Mark is writing specifically for non-Jewish readers in Rome. That's why he takes time to explain Jewish customs that his readers wouldn't have been all that familiar with– things that Matthew, writing to a Jewish audience, doesn’t take the time to explain. He's not trying to write a detailed biography. He's proclaiming urgent news about the most important person who ever lived – Jesus Christ, the of God.
So to really understand what Mark is doing, we need to transport ourselves back in time. Imagine that you’re in first-century Rome. The year is around 65 A.D. Rome is the greatest city in the world, with about a million people living there. The streets are crowded with people from every corner of the empire – merchants selling, soldiers marching, even slaves are running errands for their masters, and senators in their togas heading to political meetings.
Except, wait a minute – you’re not up there in the bustling streets. You’re underground. You’re in the catacombs beneath the city.
These aren’t just burial tunnels – they’re church. The air is damp and cool, and the only light comes from some flickering oil lamps.
You’re gathered here because being a Christian has become incredibly dangerous. The emperor Nero has begun a systematic persecution of believers. When fire devastated Rome in 64 A.D., destroying about 70% of the city, Nero blamed the Christians to deflect suspicion from himself. The results were horrific. Christians were being arrested, tortured, and executed in the most cruel ways imaginable. Some were torn apart by dogs in the arena. Others fed to lions int he Colosseum while crowds cheered. Nero would even light his gardens by burning the bodies of Christians.
And yet, here you are, risking everything to gather with fellow believers. Why? Because something has happened that’s so important, so world-changing, that it’s worth risking your life for. It’s worth risking that kind of death. And now, in this underground church in the catacombs, someone begins to read from a newly written account – the Gospel of Mark. That’s the context in which this Gospel first appeared. Mark wrote it around 65 A.D., during those terrible days of persecution, to strengthen the faith of Christians by showing them who Jesus really is and why He matters so much that they would risk everything to follow Him. He wanted them – and us – to understand that the long wait was over. The silence had ended. The Messiah had come.
So as we enter into this series in Mark, I want you to hold onto that sense of urgency, of anticipation, that feeling of waiting finally being rewarded. Because what Mark is about to tell us echoes through the centuries with the same urgent message that drove those first believers to risk everything in those Roman catacombs: God has not forgotten His promises. The silence has been broken. The King has come. And in Jesus Christ, we find something worth living – and dying – for.
The Untold Beginning
So turn with me to the beginning of Mark.
“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
This single verse carries so much weight that we could spend our entire time just unpacking what it is that Mark is doing here. The word “beginning” immediately echoes Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” And this isn’t accidental. Mark wants us to understand that something entirely new is happening here – a new creation through Jesus Christ. Just as God once spoke light into darkness, He’s now speaking His final Word into the world through His Son. Then the term “gospel” – this word would have carried a lot of meaning for Mark’s original readers, and I point this out because understanding this helps to grasp just how revolutionary Mark’s message was. See, in the Roman world, this word was used elsewhere. We think of it as from the Bible, but the word used for gospel in the Koine Greek is:
“εὐαγγελίου”
This word was used to announce an emperor’s victory, or the news of the arrival of a kingdom – like the reign of a kind that brought a war to an end, so that all the people who surrendered and pledged allegiance to this king would be spared from destruction.
So think about how this would have landed with Mark’s original readers. When a new emperor took the throne in Rome, heralds would go throughout the empire proclaiming the “gospel” – the news that a new ruler had come to power. This announcement demanded a response – either submission to the new emperor, or not. There wasn’t really a middle ground. And we actually have several ancient inscriptions that show us how this language was used. One of the most famous is from Emperor Augustus, which reads:
“The birthday of the god was for the world the beginning of good tidings.”
The Romans believed that their emperor was divine, and they used this exact language – “good tidings” or “gospel” to announce his rule.
Now here’s what’s fascinating is that Mark is deliberately taking this kind of imperial language, and he’s subverting it. He’s making an astoundingly bold claim: the true good news isn’t about Ceasar – it’s about Jesus Christ. Remember, he’s writing to Christians hiding in the catacombs, being heavily persecuted by Rome, and he’s essentially saying to them in this first verse, “Ceasar isn’t really lord – Jesus is.” Writing this was treasonous by Roman standard – which helps explain why Christians faced such fierce persecution. But there’s an ever deeper meaning here that a Jewish reader would have immediately recognized. For Jews who knew the Old Testament well, particularly in Isaiah, “good news” referred to the announcement of God’s coming salvation. Isaiah 52:7 says,
“How beautiful upon the mountains
are the feet of him who brings good news,
who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness,
who publishes salvation,
who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’”
So in just this first verse, we see Mark declaring that in Jesus, this long-awaited salvation has arrived – the hopes of centuries are being fulfilled.
Then in the next two verses, Mark 1:2-3, Mark says:
“As it is written in Isaiah the prophet,
’Behold, I send my messenger before your face,
who will prepare your way,
the voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight,’’”
Mark is actually weaving together several different Old Testament passages here – the first part, “Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way,” comes from Exodus 23:20 and Malachi 3:1. Then, he quotes directly from Isaiah 40:3, saying, “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”
You might wonder why mark would attribute all of this to Isaiah when he’s clearly drawing from multiple sources – but Mark isn’t making a mistake here. He’s doing something intentional and profound. You see, God rarely springs significant spiritual truths on us without preparation. Throughout the Old Testament, we see centuries of God warning His people, preparing them, sending prophets to help them understand what He was going to do. From Moses speaking about God’s messenger leading Israel through the wilderness, Malachi warning about the messenger who would prepare the way for the Lord’s coming, and Isaiah proclaiming comfort and salvation – it all points to the same reality that’s now being fulfilled in Jesus Christ. So right out of the gate we have Mark writing to his Roman readers, announcing a different King than Caesar, one whose reign would extend far beyond Rome. And to Jewish readers, this was the announcement they had been waiting centuries to hear – the promised salvation was finally here. He reaches back to Exodus, Malachi, and Isaiah – to show that this isn’t just some new idea of recent development. This is the culmination of God’s plan that’s been unfolding throughout history. The messenger promised to guide Israel through the wilderness, the herald who would prepare the way for the Lord’s coming, and the voice crying in the wilderness, all of that is coming together now.
John the Baptist’s Ministry of Preparation
Read with me now vv. 4-6:
“John appeared, baptizing in the wilderness and proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And all the country of Judea and all Jerusalem were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair and wore a leather belt around his waist and ate locusts and wild honey.”
Enter John the Baptist. And let me tell you, I would love to see the greeters faces if John walked through our front doors. “Clothed with camel’s hair and wearing a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.” So not exactly “business causal.” No, John looked more like someone who had been marooned on a desert island. But here’s the thing – his appearance wasn’t some kind of failed attempt in starting some new trend in wilderness apparel.
In fact, John the Baptist’s appearance was a deliberate echo of the prophet Elijah, described in 2 Kings 1:8 as wearing:
“They answered him, ’He wore a garment of hair, with a belt of leather about his waist.’ And he said, ‘It is Elijah the Tishbite.’”
Think about it like this: someone walks in the front doors of this church wearing exactly what George Washington wore – the powdered wig, the knee high bants, the whole outfit. You’d be like, “man this guy likes George Washington.” And that’s what John was doing – his entire appearance was a walking sermon, a protest against the religious compromise and materialism of his day. You know when someone says, “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me,” usually they care quite a bit. But John? He genuinely didn’t care. While the religious leaders were walking around in their fancy robes, accepting VIP treatment at banquets, John was out in the wilderness eating bugs. And somehow – this is what's amazing – people were drawn to him. They weren't repelled by his strange appearance; they were attracted by his authenticity.
And John's ministry centered on two elements that were absolutely revolutionary: baptism and preaching. See, Jews typically only baptized Gentile converts to Judaism. It was their way of saying, "You're unclean, but this ritual will help make you acceptable to God." But John was looking at God's chosen people and saying, "You need to be baptized too!" This would be like telling the elders here that they need to go through new members' class. It was shocking because it suggested that simply being born Jewish wasn't enough. Everyone, even the most religiously qualified, needed to repent and start fresh with God.
But if his baptism practice was revolutionary, his message was nuclear. Listen to what he says in verse 7:
“And he preached, saying, ‘After me comes he who is mightier than I, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie.’”
Now, in that culture, dealing with someone's feet was considered the lowest of the low. Even slaves weren't required to remove their master's sandals – that was considered too degrading. It would be like saying today, "I'm not even worthy to be his intern's intern's coffee runner." Think about that for a moment. John had crowds coming out to see him. He had religious leaders paying attention to his movement. He had what we today would call a successful ministry platform. But instead, he's saying, "I'm not even worthy to untie this guy's sandals." I just think to our age of personal branding and platform building, where so many are trying to become big on social media, to become influencers, it’s as if John is saying, "I influence people to stop looking at me and start looking at Jesus." If you want to see what genuine humility looks like – there it is. No false modesty, no humble-bragging, just pure, unfiltered recognition that Jesus is everything and he is nothing in comparison. In a world full of religious leaders who were all about their own authority and importance, John stood out by pointing away from himself to someone greater.
The Significance of the Wilderness
So why does Mark emphasize the wilderness setting so strongly? I mean, if you were launching a major spiritual movement today, you probably wouldn’t choose to start it out in Death Valley. You’d want a prime location – right on one of the main streets that people are going to be passing all day. You’d want to hire a great PR team, get some social media stuff out there, get your shorts uploading, start interacting with comments. But here, it seems as if God chooses for this to start out in the middle of nowhere. Why?
Because in Jewish thought, the wilderness wasn’t just empty space. It carried a lot of significance. It was where God had first formed Israel as a nation after the exodus from Egypt. It was where God had spoken to Moses through the burning bush. It was where Elijah had encountered God in that “still small voice” – after the wind, earthquake, and fire had passed by. Think about it: when God wanted to transform a group of Israelite slaves into the nation of Israel, He took them to the wilderness for forty years. When He was preparing Moses to lead His people, He sent him to tend sheep in the wilderness for forty years. When He needed to reshape Elijah’s understanding of how He works, He didn’t just fire down a text book from heaven – He took him to the wilderness. There’s a pattern here. The wilderness in the Bible is where God does some of His best work. It’s like the center of transformation. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? In the wilderness, you can’t fake it. You can’t pretend you’re self-sufficient. You can’t rely on your usual comforts. The wilderness strips away our pretenses and leaves us face to face with who we really are – and who God really is.
That’s why John the Baptist’s first appearance in the wilderness was so significant. He wasn’t just picking a convenient spot with some great acoustics for preaching. The wilderness represented both testing and new beginnings. By appearing there, John was symbolically calling Israel to start over, to return to that place where they had first met God and received a fresh start through repentance and baptism.
R. C. Sproul notes that this wilderness theme would have resonated in a really powerful way with Mark’s readers in Rome. They weren’t just reading about ancient history – they were living in their own wilderness experience. They were forced to worship in the catacombs, surrounded by hostility, surrounded by persecution. Mark’s message encouraged them: just as God had worked powerfully through John in the wilderness, He could work through them in their “wilderness” circumstances as well. And this is where we come in – because we all face “wilderness seasons” don’t we? Maybe yours doesn’t involve literal sand, raw honey, and locusts. Maybe it’s a season of unemployment, when all your usual sources of financial security have dried up. Maybe it’s your health, and the crisis you’re in has stripped away any feelings of control you may have had. Maybe it’s a relationship that’s broken down to the point that you just feel isolated and completely alone, no matter how many people are around you. Maybe it’s that period after graduation when everyone else seems to have their life figured out, and you’re still just – there. Wondering what God is doing with your life. The wilderness isn’t just a geographical location – it’s any place where we’re forced to face our own inadequacy and depend completely on God. And that’s exactly why God often leads us there. The wilderness is where we learn that His presence is more important than our comfort. It’s where we learn that His purposes are more reliable than our plans, and His provision is more than enough for our needs.
And in light of this, this is what I love about John’s ministry is that he went to the wilderness not to escape from society, but to call society to transformation. He wasn’t trying to create a perfect community of super-spiritual elite people – he was calling everyone, from tax collectors to soldiers to religious leaders, to repent and prepare for God’s coming. And, what we’ll get into soon in this series, but I just want to point it out - notice what happens in the very next scene in Mark's Gospel – Jesus comes to the wilderness to be baptized, and immediately afterward, the Spirit drives Him into the wilderness to be tested. The wilderness isn't just where John prepares the way – it's where Jesus Himself demonstrates what it means to depend completely on God. And this is why Mark's original readers found such comfort in this Gospel.
Because when you're hiding in the catacombs, wondering if this is the day the Roman soldiers will find you, it helps to know that God does His best work in the wilderness. When you're facing your own wilderness season, it helps to know that you're not lost – you're exactly where God often takes His people to do His deepest work in their lives. And the wilderness isn't about getting what we want; it's about learning to want what God wants. When you're seeking God's will, and you’re in the wilderness, it helps to remember that Moses spent forty years in the wilderness before he understood God's plan for his life. When things aren't turning out the way you thought they would – when the healing doesn't come, when the relationship isn't restored, when the path forward isn't what you expected – you’re standing in the company of those who encountered God in the wilderness and discovered that He is enough. And look with me in the very next verse, verse 8, John says:
“I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
The Greater Baptism
John makes a crucial distinction between his baptism and Jesus': "I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." Now, to understand just how revolutionary this statement is, we need to step back and understand what baptism meant in John's world. In Jewish culture, ceremonial washing was deeply significant. They had something called a mikvah – a special stepped bath used for ceremonial cleansing. If you visit Israel today, you can still see these ancient mikvehs carved into the stone.
Jewish people would use these baths before marriage, after childbirth, or when converting to Judaism – it was their way of washing away the old and preparing for something new.
But when John starts baptizing people in the Jordan River, he's doing something radically different. He's not just performing another ritual cleansing. He's saying, "It's not enough to just go through the motions. You need to repent – to genuinely turn away from your sins and change the way you think and live."
And here's what's fascinating: John's message was counter-cultural on two fronts.
Burdensome Religious System
And John's message challenged everyone. On one side, you had the Pharisees and scribes – religious leaders who had turned faith into this complicated system of rules and regulations. They had added so many requirements that ordinary people felt crushed under the weight of religious obligation. By comparison, John's simple call to "repent and be baptized" seemed almost too easy.
Corrupt Political Culture
But on the other side, you had the Romans with their decadent lifestyle and political power, and John convicts the people to reject the decadent lifestyle of their political masters. But on the other side, you had the Romans with their decadent lifestyle and political power. John was calling people to reject both extremes - both empty religious ritual and worldly excess. But then John drops this bombshell: "He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." This wasn't just another innovation in religious practice. This was the fulfillment of ancient prophecies that God's people had clung to for centuries:
Joel had spoken of a day when God would pour out His Spirit on all flesh
Isaiah had promised a time when God would pour water on the thirsty land and His Spirit on His people
Ezekiel had proclaimed God's promise: "I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes"
And here's what makes this so profound: Just as the Spirit of God had guided them through their first exodus from slavery, now Jesus would lead a new exodus through the power of His Spirit - not from political slavery, but from slavery to sin itself. The prophets had promised this new exodus would come with a fresh outpouring of the Spirit. "I will pour water on the thirsty land," God had said through Isaiah, "and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring." So when John stands in the wilderness announcing Jesus's baptism of the Holy Spirit, he's declaring that the moment has finally come - God is about to fulfill all those ancient promises in a new and powerful way through the Messiah.
This is why Mark's account is so powerful. He's not just giving us historical facts about John the Baptist. He's recreating for us the same crisis of decision that John the Baptist presented. Just as those people had to decide whether to repent and be baptized, we have to decide how we'll respond to the offer of salvation through Christ alone. This isn't just ancient history - it's a present reality. The same Spirit who led Israel through the wilderness, who John promised would be poured out through the Messiah, is the Spirit who still transforms lives today. When Jesus baptizes us with the Holy Spirit, He's not just giving us a religious experience or another ritual to perform - He's leading us on our own exodus from slavery to freedom, from death to life, from the old creation to the new.
Application Today
We started today talking about waiting - that knot in your stomach when you're desperately hoping for something to happen. The Jewish people had waited 400 years for the Messiah. Mark's original readers were waiting in the catacombs, wondering if they would survive another day. Maybe you're in your own season of waiting right now. But here's what Mark wants us to understand: The wait is over. The silence has been broken. The King has come. And just as those first Roman Christians had to decide if Jesus was worth dying for, we have to decide who Jesus really is to us. Because Mark confronts us with a stark reality: Jesus claimed to be nothing less than God in human flesh, the promised Messiah, the One who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.
C.S. Lewis, one of the greatest Christian thinkers of the 20th century, put it wonderfully saying that Jesus must be either a liar, a lunatic, or the Lord. Here's why this matters so much: Jesus claimed to be God. Not just a good teacher, not just a prophet, not just a wise man - He claimed to be God Himself. He said things like "Before Abraham was, I am" - taking on God's personal name. He claimed to have the authority to forgive sins. He accepted worship. He said He would judge the world. Now, when someone makes claims like that, we only have three logical possibilities:
First, He could be lying - He knows He's not God but is deliberately deceiving people. But if that's true, He's not just telling a small lie - He's perpetrating the greatest deception in human history, leading millions to their deaths. And why? What did He gain from this lie? He died for it. That's not how successful deceivers operate.
Second, He could be deluded - He sincerely believes He's God but is tragically mistaken. But read the Gospels. Does Jesus sound like someone who's mentally unstable? His teaching is profound and coherent. His interactions show incredible wisdom and self-awareness. People who are deluded about their identity typically show other signs of disconnection from reality. Jesus doesn't fit that pattern at all.
That leaves us with the third option - He's telling the truth. He is exactly who He claimed to be: The Lord, the Son of God, the promised Messiah.
And the people who knew Him best, who walked with Him for years, who saw Him up close in public and private, came to believe He was telling the truth. These were hardworking, practical men who became so convinced that Jesus was who He claimed to be that they gave their lives for this truth. Think about this - tradition tells us that eleven of the twelve apostles died as martyrs.
Peter - Crucified upside down in Rome under Nero's persecution.
Andrew - Crucified on an X-shaped cross in Patras, Greece.
James (son of Zebedee) - Beheaded by King Herod Agrippa I in Jerusalem.
John - Only apostle believed to have died naturally, exiled, and only because boiling him alive didn’t kill him.
Philip - Crucified in Hierapolis, Phrygia.
Bartholomew - Flayed alive and crucified in Armenia.
Thomas - Speared to death in India.
Matthew - Martyred in Ethiopia, possibly by sword.
James (son of Alphaeus) - Stoned and clubbed to death in Jerusalem.
Thaddaeus/Jude - Killed by arrows in Persia or Syria.
Simon the Zealot - Crucified in Britain or Persia.
Matthias (replaced Judas) - Stoned and beheaded in Jerusalem.
These men had seen everything Jesus did. They knew whether the resurrection was real or not. They could have saved their lives by simply saying, "It was all made up." But they didn't. They died affirming that Jesus is Lord. John the Baptist gave up every comfort, every chance at respectability, every opportunity for personal success, to point people to Jesus. Those early Roman Christians gave up their very lives rather than deny Him. The apostles suffered beatings, imprisonment, and brutal executions rather than stop proclaiming this truth. Why? Because they had discovered what Mark is trying to show us - that Jesus is worth everything.
So the question isn't just "Who is Jesus?" The question is "Who is Jesus to you?" Are you willing to let Him lead you through the wilderness, where all your self-sufficiency is stripped away? Are you ready to move to real relationship with Him? Will you, like those who heard John the Baptist, acknowledge your need for repentance and turn to Christ? Will you let Jesus baptize you not just with water, but with His Spirit - transforming you from the inside out? The same voice that called out in the wilderness 2,000 years ago is calling today. The same Spirit that led Israel through the desert, that empowered those persecuted believers in Rome, is ready to transform your life. The wait is over. The King has come. Amen.
How will you respond?