“This hasn’t happened in twenty years:” opened the world-renowned evangelist who had just taken the platform.

Our backs straightened with moon launch anticipation revved up by six weeks of preparation and advertising for the international evangelist/author/conference speaker’s three-day crusade in our little church. Door to door handouts, newspaper adds, radio spots, three days of prayer and fasting made us certain a visitation of God’s Glory was coming to our town like the ones our speaker had just seen in his recent tent meetings in the Philippines. The last one extended for six weeks. We expected a similar miracle.

“I cannot speak,” he continued, without any introductory remarks.

My mind snapped to the bible account when the priests could not stand to minister because of the miraculous Glory of God in the temple. I thought of Zacharias who was rendered dumb by God’s Glory until John the Baptist was born.

Oh wow! I thought. This is it!

He began to teeter staring expressionless back at our locked-on trances. My heart pounded. Get ready, here it comes!

“I’m fainting” he announced, and proceeded to keel over.

Instead of the limitless power of God, the poor dehydrated man afflicted with severe dysentery from his recent international travels, demonstrated the limits of the human body. We burst forward and assisted him.

Hundreds of mouths hung open like children just told “we aren’t going to Disney World after all.” I felt hot with embarrassment.

“What’ll I say Lord?” The packed church needed an explanation. A few minutes later, it came to me.

Change of plans friends, I said. “I said, as I took the microphone, “we’ve been given the high privilege of caring for a mighty warrior freshly back from the battle front.” Three days of selfless R&R for God’s hero became the church’s heavenly re-assignment.

Some were disillusioned, most grew through the experience. We laugh about it today.

Sometimes God’s plans are hidden within ours.

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