Not long ago, I watched a short documentary about the animal world. I can’t recall exactly what kind of bird it was, but the video showed its entire life cycle—laying eggs, hatching, feeding its young, and finally watching them leave the nest and take flight. Among all the scenes, one image stayed with me more than any other: the hatchlings stretching their necks and opening their mouths wide, begging their mother for food. Even without sound, their open mouths and the way they leaned toward the mother bird were striking. I found myself wondering how the mother could feed each one fairly.

There was a reason this scene moved me deeply. Throughout my 17 years of ministry, I have had a few unforgettable answers to prayer. And recently, there was another. This past May, I had an ICD implanted in my heart, and in June, my wife underwent surgery for her third recurrence of ovarian cancer. At one point, it felt as though we were being punished for some unknown, enormous sin. My wife is still undergoing chemotherapy, though thankfully this is her final round. Looking back, we can only confess that it has been nothing but the Lord’s great grace that has carried us this far.

During this season, I experienced a profound answer to a prayer lifted with my mouth wide open—with desperate longing. This past August, during a moment of significant decision, I spent three hours a day sitting alone in the church sanctuary, praying. Sometimes I cried, sometimes I complained, and sometimes I simply dozed off, but I stayed beneath the shadow of the Lord’s cross. Stopping ministry almost seemed like the easiest choice. Yet the Lord who first called me never gave me peace about stepping away. For those who wonder how to discern God’s voice, let me add: the Lord’s answers almost always come with a gift of peace.

Still unsure about stepping back from ministry, I prayed once more—like Gideon. With most church members gone and only a handful remaining, I asked the Lord to send a pianist who could help lead worship. And to open my mouth even wider and ask boldly, I posted a notice on a public website, seeking a volunteer pianist willing to serve without pay. I knew it was nearly impossible, but I asked in faith.

For nearly fifteen days, there was no response. Naturally so. By the end of August, I thought I would be justified—regardless of heaven’s approval—in laying down my ministry. My circumstances, the environment, and even my health seemed to support that decision. But then came God’s dramatic reversal—His first “plot twist.” I’ll need to share the details next week due to limited space.

For now, I can confess this with absolute certainty: when we pray, we must open our mouths wide and cry out with true thirst.