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Suddenly a sound like that of a violent rushing wind came from heaven, and it filled the whole house where they were staying. Acts 2:2
The Saturday before Easter Sunday 1988, I was in my office catching up on some correspondence. It had been unseasonably warm, and according to the weather report, a big storm was moving in.
Watching out my office window, I could see the storm approaching. The midsize trees that lined the street in front of our building were bending low under the weight of the heavy winds. Rain peppered the glass. And then, as suddenly as the storm had started, it came to an abrupt end. The trees that had moments before buckled over now stood straight and motionless. This stillness seemed strange—almost eerie. I remember noticing the suddenness of the change. What I didn’t know until several hours later was that during those moments, a tornado was ripping through our town, only a few miles from where I was sitting.
That afternoon, my late wife Bobbie and I drove to the impacted area to look at the incredible devastation. A large section of an apartment building had exploded. People had been killed. Huge warehouses lay in total ruin. Large trees were snapped off like pencils, ten feet above the ground. Stuff was strewn everywhere. It was awful.
Did you know that no one has ever seen a tornado? “What?” you’re saying. “I’ve seen plenty of them in photographs and on television. I’ve even seen depictions of tornadoes in the movies.” You’re right. I have seen this, too.
This may be a technicality, but stay with me for a moment. What you and I have seen in these images have been the effects of tornadoes. What has been visible to us has been the dirt and debris and moisture the funnel cloud has picked up along the way. But since a tornado is nothing but swiftly moving wind and since no one has ever seen the wind, you and I have never seen a tornado. As I said, however, we certainly have witnessed the impact of this twisting meteorological phenomenon.
On the day of Pentecost, exactly fifty days after Passover, God the Holy Spirit paid a visit to the disciples. He came in the form of “a sound like that of a violent rushing wind . . . from heaven” (v. 2). The effect of this miraculous visitation was visible in tongues of fire and audible as the men began speaking in languages they had never studied. But the wind itself was not seen.
As God, who is spiritual and invisible in nature, the Holy Spirit is like the wind. “No one has ever seen God,” the apostle John wrote. “If we love one another, God remains in us and his love is made complete in us” (1Jn 4:12). No one will ever actually see God living in you in a physical sense, but the effects of His presence ought to be a complete sensory experience for everyone around you.
Sometimes, especially if you’re a dad, God’s presence in your life is going to look like a strong wind, rearranging things that are out of order. At other times, His appearance will resemble a tropical breeze, comforting and reassuring you and everyone at your house. And sometimes God’s presence in your life will be as silent as the rug in front of your fireplace. Silent but there for sure.
God’s power is invisible but unmistakable. His plan is to stretch you over this invisible force to give it a voice, a pair of hands, and a life that demonstrates that power. Let God fill you with His Spirit today. The strength of this wind could be a visible experience for everyone you know.