Last night, I was at a worship concert. The feeling of being surrounded by thousands of people, all reaching towards God at the same time, is indescribable. My body actually vibrated while the music surrounded me: the pulse of the music driving though me (and everyone around me) at the same time. At one moment, I opened my eyes to find myself, and everyone around me, with their arms outstretched and caught up in the greatness of God. We were all joined together in worship and prayer. We didn’t all know each other, but we all had a friend in common: God, If I had to imagine what Jesus Christ would have looked like, the lead singer fit the bill: gritty, long hair, mustache and beard, unrestrained, wild, and passionate. The guy was seemingly full of energy, unafraid of himself or others, and appearing knock down, drag out, sold out for Christ. His energy was contagious. I finished the evening with a feeling of greatness: his greatness, the greatness of the people around me, and the greatness possible through me. Don’t get me wrong. This wasn’t grandiosity or narcissism. It was simply an awareness of God’s plan to use His people to do His great things in spite of us. The power of all of us, doing what we are called to do while joined together in one place, was intoxicating. Today, I am home alone. We have all gone our separate ways. What becomes of what happened last night in that stadium now that we have been pulled apart? How do we do what we thought was possible as we joined hands last night? We might think that a spiritual battle was fought in the moments of last evening and I believe that one was. Darkness was certainly defeated, and the power of Christ was brightly shining. There’s no question in my mind that this was the case. But, do we now just move on to the daily grind of life until the next opportunity to feel like we’re a part of something so big? Or, is today the day we battle? Maybe, it’s in the aftermath that we carry the torch that drives back the darkness? Maybe, this is the place where spiritual warfare really takes place: in the ordinary, everyday stuff of life? I don’t feel so grandiose today. I’m tired, a little flat, and I think I’m fighting a cold. There’s something else I’m fighting too: a spiritual battle. I have to fight to hold onto the vision of last night. I have to fight to remember what God told me of His greatness, to remember the power we all had as we joined together, and to recall the enormity of our friend in common. Just like I did last night, I need to remember to pray with the people around me. God is undaunted by our change in proximity. He doesn’t care that the people I prayed and worshipped with last night have a new found physical distance from me. He still wants us to remember to pray together. He wants us to do again today what we did last night. What if we all held hands and prayed today? What if we understood that the power unleashed last night is at our fingertips with the simple act of continuing to pray with the same passion and fervor? Maybe praying was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but today you want in on the deal? Is it possible that today could be a day for moving spiritual mountains? What do you think about joining hands and praying today?