THE STILLNESS BEFORE THE STORM
There is a moment in the story of Noah that almost no one talks about.
It isn’t dramatic.
It isn’t noisy.
It isn’t the rain or the rising waters or the thunder cracking over the mountains.
It’s the seven days of silence.
Noah entered the ark.
The animals were inside.
The door shut behind him — shut by the very hand of God.
And then…
Nothing.
No wind,
no cloudburst,
no storm on the horizon.
The world outside carried on as if nothing had changed.
If anything, the people grew more confident in their unbelief.
They may have gathered around that massive wooden vessel shaking their heads,
laughing at the sight of a preacher locked inside a floating barn on dry ground.
I can imagine the scene — the dust rising, the torches lit, the laughter growing louder.
A flood-rave at the ramp of the ark.
Delay became mockery.
Silence became evidence that judgment was a myth.
But inside that ark, Noah sat knowing something the world refused to believe:
**Delay is not denial — it is mercy.
And mercy has an expiration point.**
The stillness before judgment is not empty space.
It is God holding back the winds.
It is God extending opportunity.
It is God shaping character.
The same God who held back the waters of the deep in Noah’s day
is holding back the four winds of strife in ours.
Revelation says four angels are stationed at the four corners of the earth,
their hands gripping forces that would tear the world apart.
And they hold, not because God is slow,
but because God is merciful.
The angels hold…
and hold…
and hold…
Why?
So that something can happen in us
before something happens to the world.
---
CHARACTER BEFORE CRISIS
It is a sobering truth, but it is a revival truth:
**The final crisis will not build your character —
it will reveal the one you already have.**
Noah didn’t become faithful inside the ark.
He brought his faithfulness with him.
The sealing in Revelation is not a last-minute divine emergency mark;
it is the natural outflow of a life surrendered day by day.
And this is the message the Spirit has been pressing into my soul:
> Character is the only thing that will pass through the final storm.
And character is formed in small, daily acts of trust long before the winds are released.
We like to ask how we will stand in the last days.
The better question is:
How are we standing today?
Because who I am today is who I will be when the winds begin to blow.
A crisis doesn’t invent character — it exposes it.
It presses out what is already inside.
---
THE KUWAIT WAR — WHEN CHARACTER MET CRISIS
I learned this in a way I never expected — in Kuwait, during the war.
Those were days when the air was thick with fear,
when you didn’t know if the next hour would bring safety or danger,
peace or tragedy.
Emotionally, I ran the full range — fear, despair, confusion, weakness.
I discovered things about myself that I wish were not true.
I discovered that my character, the real substance of who I was,
needed to be far more present than it was.
War does not construct character —
it simply reveals what has been forming all along.
And yet, in the middle of that turmoil, God brought someone into my life
who changed everything.
Her name was Sarah.
She was the daughter of an emir —
young, courageous, compassionate —
and she found her way to me while I was in hiding.
She brought food.
She brought news.
She brought encouragement.
But she brought more than that.
In the quiet of those hidden hours, she asked questions about life,
about hope,
about Jesus.
And one day she said the most extraordinary words:
> “I want to know Jesus as my Savior.”
Heaven draws near in moments like that.
Even in a war zone, the Holy Spirit whispers in ways that cannot be silenced.
But Sarah noticed something else.
She noticed that I did not blend in very well.
I was an American in a place where Americans were hunted.
My lighter hair and lighter skin were a liability.
One day she came with henna, smiling as she handed it to me,
hoping it might darken my hair enough to help me move unnoticed.
We tried.
We laughed quietly.
It did nothing.
A few days later she returned, glancing over her shoulder,
holding a box in her hands —
Clairol black hair dye.
“This one is stronger,” she said.
So I put it on.
Hair, beard, even some of my skin —
anything to blend in,
anything to survive.
And then, wearing an old Egyptian dishdasha,
I stepped out into the city.
To reach safety — or what I thought might be safety —
I had to pass several Iraqi military checkpoints.
Soldiers stood guard with suspicion in their eyes
and power in their hands.
I passed the first checkpoint.
No questions.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat,
God carried me through.
When I reached the rally point,
friends rushed toward me.
“David — you can’t stay.
The soldiers are looking for you right now.”
The place that looked like safety
was actually the place of danger.
So I turned around
and walked back through the same checkpoints,
past the same soldiers
who were searching for the very man walking under their noses.
It was nothing short of a miracle.
Not my disguise.
Not my courage.
Not my planning.
God.
God held me.
God covered me.
God guided me.
God protected me.
And in those hours, one truth settled into my soul:
> Trust is learned step by step,
in places where survival is impossible
and God’s presence becomes undeniable.
But the story did not end with my survival.
Sarah —
this brave, searching young woman —
was later taken by Iraqi soldiers.
She was abused.
And she was killed.
Her earthly life ended,
but her courage, her questions, and her desire to know Christ
live with me still.
And God used her —
her kindness, her risk, her faith —
to teach me something I could have learned no other way:
**Character is shaped in the little things,
and revealed in the great things.
And trust is what carries us through both.**
---
THE REVIVAL TURN
So when I think of Noah in the ark for seven silent days,
or the angels holding back the winds of strife today,
I hear God saying:
> “Do not wait for the storm to become the person the storm will require.”
Now is the time.
Now is the day of character.
Now is the moment of surrender.
Now is when God is shaping something in you
that will stand when the winds finally let go.
---
WHEN RESTRAINT IS WITHDRAWN — AND WHAT IT REVEALS**
If we could step behind the curtain of the visible world for just a moment,
we would see something astonishing:
The only reason this world still holds together,
the only reason chaos has not swallowed civilization whole,
the only reason the floodgates have not broken loose…
…is because God is still holding the winds back.
Revelation gives us the image:
four mighty angels standing at the four corners of the earth,
each gripping a wind so fierce
that if released,
it would tear the world apart.
These winds are not weather.
They are forces.
Powers.
Movements of destruction, violence, upheaval, and uncreation.
And Scripture says the angels hold them back
until the servants of God are sealed in their foreheads.
Not their membership.
Not their knowledge.
Not their performance.
Their character.
Because the seal of God is not ink on the skin —
it is the imprint of Christ on the soul.
That is why the winds wait.
Mercy waits.
Heaven waits.
The universe waits.
Not because God is slow,
but because God is patient,
“not willing that any should perish.”
The delay is grace.
But delay is not endless.
There will come a moment — and Scripture says it will come suddenly —
when God says to the angels,
“Hold no longer.”
And when the winds of strife are released,
the world will not break evenly.
It will break along the grain of character.
This is the revival truth we must face:
**Trouble does not create character —
it exposes it.**
The storm reveals what the quiet years have formed.
The pressure reveals what the daily choices have shaped.
The crisis unmasks what the heart has become.
---
THE LESSON OF UNCREATION
In Noah’s day, judgment came not only through rain from above —
but from the earth splitting beneath their feet.
Scripture says the very “fountains of the deep were broken up,”
and the “windows of heaven were opened.”
The boundaries God established at creation
were removed at judgment.
Creation reversed.
Order undone.
Light swallowed by darkness.
Structure collapsing into chaos.
That is what uncreation is.
And uncreation will come again —
not through water but through every force that God has restrained until now:
political storms
economic collapse
moral upheaval
environmental convulsion
spiritual deception
violence, division, and fear
But listen carefully:
**These forces do not shape the people of God —
they reveal the people of God.**
The storm does not build the ark.
The storm tests the ark.
So the question for our time is not:
“Will I survive the last days?”
but
“What kind of person am I becoming now?”
Because who I am becoming today
is exactly who I will be when the winds are let go.
---
THE TENSION OF NOW — AND WHY IT MATTERS
We stand in a strange moment in earth’s history.
We see signs intensifying.
We see societies unraveling.
We see fear rising.
We see institutions shaking.
We see storms forming on every horizon.
But heaven is holding the winds.
There is a stillness before the storm —
just like the seven silent days in Noah’s ark.
And the danger in this moment is not the approaching winds.
The danger is the illusion that silence means safety.
The truth is:
We are living in the most merciful delay in the history of the world.
And the purpose of this delay
is not that we might gather more things,
or achieve more accomplishments,
or chase more distractions,
or cling to more comforts.
The purpose is far simpler:
God is forming a people who can stand.
Not because they are strong —
but because they are surrendered.
Not because they are flawless —
but because they are faithful in the little things.
Not because they are fearless —
but because they have learned where to place their fear.
Not because they haven't failed —
but because they walk hand in hand with the One who never has.
---
THE BATTLE FOR CHARACTER HAPPENS IN THE SMALL THINGS
When the final winds blow,
we will not be saved by sudden heroism.
We will stand because of
quiet, daily obedience
we have learned to practice in the ordinary hours.
Jesus said,
“He who is faithful in very little
is faithful also in much.”
We want to be faithful in the “much.”
Faithful in the crisis.
Faithful when the winds rage.
Faithful when our world shakes.
But faithfulness begins in the “very little.”
In the unnoticed decisions.
In the quiet surrenders.
In the small temptations resisted.
In the gentle words spoken.
In the impulses surrendered.
In the prayers whispered.
In the Scriptures opened.
In the heart softened.
In the grudge released.
In the compassion shown.
In the self-denial embraced.
Every small surrender becomes a brick in the character
that will stand unmoved when the world trembles.
---
MY LESSON IN KUWAIT — AND WHY IT STILL SPEAKS
When I think back to Kuwait —
to the checkpoints,
to the danger,
to the dishdasha,
to the hair dye,
to Sarah’s courage,
to God’s protection —
one truth keeps rising to the surface:
**You do not rise to the level of your intentions.
You rise to the level of your character.**
And character is not forged in the spotlight of crisis
but in the shadows of everyday faithfulness.
I walked through those checkpoints
not because I suddenly became courageous
but because God had been slowly teaching me
to trust Him in the everyday moments
long before danger came.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It wasn’t heroic.
It was step by step obedience,
whisper by whispered prayer,
choice by choice surrender.
That is the only way character forms.
And that is the only way character stands.
---
THE IMMINENCE OF GOD’S CALL
So what is the message for us today?
Not fear.
Not speculation.
Not timelines.
Not charts.
The message is simple and urgent:
**Let God shape your character now —
because the winds are nearer than we think.**
Imminence is not meant to frighten the believer;
it is meant to awaken the believer.
Imminence is not a countdown —
it is an invitation.
A call to draw near.
A call to surrender.
A call to let God form in us
what no crisis ever can.
---
THE SEALING, THE STORM, AND THE SURVIVORS**
There is a quiet line in Revelation that carries the whole weight of last-day readiness:
> “Hurt not the earth…
till we have sealed the servants of our God in their foreheads.”
Before the winds blow…
before uncreation begins…
before the shaking intensifies…
God seals His people.
And the seal is not a sticker, a stamp, a symbol, or a secret code.
It is not a GPS location God places on the righteous.
It is not something applied from the outside.
The seal is who you have become in Christ.
It is the settled loyalty of the heart.
It is the quiet faithfulness of daily surrender.
It is trust that has taken root so deeply
that no wind on earth can pull it loose.
The forehead — in Scripture — represents the mind, the will, the character.
The place where decisions are made.
The place where loyalty is formed.
The place where Christ writes His law of love.
When God seals His people,
He does not seal their behavior —
He seals their character.
And this is the revival reality we must face:
**What God seals at the end
is what we allow Him to shape every day.**
The sealing does not surprise the righteous.
It confirms what already lives within them.
---
NOAH AND THE SEAL OF CHARACTER
The flood story is not simply ancient history.
It is prophecy in narrative form.
Jesus said,
“As it was in the days of Noah, so shall it be…”
In Noah’s day, there were two groups:
1. Those who entered the ark
2. Those who did not
Both groups had access to mercy.
Both heard the message.
Both watched the preparations.
Both saw the door stand open.
But only one group let God shape their character.
Everyone else relied on circumstances.
Everyone else relied on delay.
Everyone else relied on sight.
And when the seven days of silence came,
when the sky stayed clear,
when the ground stayed dry,
when everything felt normal —
character determined destiny.
The storm was never the dividing line.
Character was.
The storm simply exposed it.
---
THE WINDS OF STRIFE — AND THE GOD WHO HOLDS THEM
We are living in the very same pattern.
The winds are gathering.
The tension is rising.
The world is shaking.
The earth is groaning.
Fear is growing.
Nations are trembling.
Hearts are failing.
Convictions are eroding.
But heaven holds the winds.
God is not waiting to unleash destruction —
He is waiting to complete His work in His people.
This is not procrastination.
This is mercy.
Mercy stretched thin,
but mercy still holding.
If you want to know the heart of God in this moment,
it is this:
**“I am not willing that any should perish.
I am shaping a people who can stand.
Let Me finish My work in you.”**
We often pray for God to hold back the winds.
But perhaps heaven is praying for God to hold back nothing in us —
nothing unyielded,
nothing unconfessed,
nothing resistant,
nothing divided.
---
MY MOMENT OF UNMASKING — AND WHY IT STILL SPEAKS TODAY
I think back to those days in Kuwait,
walking through checkpoints in that worn Egyptian dishdasha,
my skin darkened with dye,
my heart hammering in my chest.
And I think of how my character trembled in that moment.
I was not brave.
I was not strong.
I was not steady.
But God was.
And He taught me something that has shaped every sermon I preach since:
**When the storm hits,
you will not rise to the level of your intention —
you will fall to the level of your character.**
And character is built,
formed,
shaped,
chiseled,
and sanctified
long before the storm arrives.
Sarah taught me that in the small ways —
through food carried in secret,
through whispered questions of faith,
through henna and Clairol hair dye.
She met my crisis with her courage.
But God used her courage to expose everything inside me
that still needed surrender.
And then she was taken.
Her life ended violently.
But her faith, her longing, her bravery —
they live on.
They testify still.
Her story forever etched one truth into my soul:
**Character matters more than circumstances.
Because character is the only thing that survives the winds.**
---
THE CALL TO A REVIVAL OF CHARACTER
This is why imminence matters.
Not to make us afraid —
but to wake us up.
Not to panic us —
but to purify us.
Not to frighten us —
but to free us.
A revival of character is a revival of:
daily surrender
quiet faithfulness
humility of heart
integrity in the secret places
obedience in the small things
trust when nothing makes sense
love when it costs us
courage when we feel weak
grace when we feel wronged
gratitude when life is hard
prayer when heaven is silent
holiness when the world is loud
This is the character God seals.
This is the character that stands.
This is the character that survives uncreation.
---
APPEAL
Beloved, the winds will blow.
The world will shake.
The storms will fall.
Uncreation will come.
But before any of that,
Christ stands beside you and says:
“Let Me finish My work in you.”
Do not wait for the storm.
Do not wait for the shaking.
Do not wait for the last days.
Do not wait for the crisis.
Let Him shape you now.
Let Him steady you now.
Let Him seal your heart now.
Let Him form within you the character of heaven.
Noah didn’t build character in the flood.
He built it in the decades before the flood.
You and I must do the same.
God is not calling you to survive the storm.
He is calling you to walk with Him in such faith
that when the storm arrives,
nothing in your heart has to change.
Let this be the moment you say:
“Lord, finish Your work in me.
Shape my character.
Seal my heart.
Steady my mind.
Make me Yours…
before the winds are released.”
---
CLOSING PRAYER
Father in heaven…
We stand in the quiet before the storm.
We sense the winds gathering,
we feel the trembling of the world,
but we also feel Your mercy holding back what we cannot bear.
Seal us.
Shape us.
Steady us.
Do in us what no crisis ever could.
Form our character into the likeness of Jesus.
Teach us to trust You in the small things now
so we may stand in the great things to come.
Finish Your work in us, Lord.
We surrender anew.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
