The Accomplishment Is the Days

What a wonderful place to be this evening. I feel so blessed to be back here in Lufkin on the campgrounds with you precious people. Texas has a very special place in my heart. My mom, who is 91 years old and monitors my schedule quite carefully, has said to me on more than one occasion — we talk every Tuesday morning, as a rule — "Where are you going this week?" And she has said to me many times, "I think you go to Texas more than any place else around." I said, "They either like me or they're slow learners; I don't know which." But I feel blessed, and to be back here on the campground with you is a very special treat. Brother Story, I thank you, sir, for your kindness to me; and Brother Grindle, and to the district board, thank you so much for the privilege to be here at this great camp meeting tonight. I count myself very blessed. To all the special guests on the platform, members of the General Board, and special friends that I've known for a long time — I feel very just spoiled to get to be with these precious men tonight. And then there's a couple other special guests I want to recognize. Over here in the pink is my sweet wife of almost 38 years now, and I feel so blessed that Michelle is here with me. I love her very much. I behave better when she's around, so thank God — you can thank her later. Somewhere out here is her brother and wife and kids — Pastor Lawrence from College Station, my brother-in-law. Where you at, Nate? He's here somewhere. There they are. Very special to me. And watching somewhere out here, my closest friend is in Texas, but he had knee replacement yesterday and couldn't be here — Brother White and family, I love you all very much. I hate that I didn't get to see you here at camp.

I'm going to read tonight from one of the most unusual passages that you would ever think to read in the middle of June, but I'm going to read from Luke chapter 2. Now, if you're familiar at all, some of you already know what that passage is about, and I know it's a little unique to read that here tonight, but I'm going to do it anyway. Luke chapter 2, and I will begin reading in verse number one — because nothing says Christmas like 95 degrees. They asked me last week to make a little video they're going to put out on social media about this camp, and I told the gentleman that asked me, I said I was so tempted to make one that said, "Man, I can't wait to come to Lufkin, because there's so many great things there — the Lufkin International Airport..." Well, no. "The best drinking water in a—" No. But great people and great church. And amen, Mr. Mayor — I almost failed; I'm so sorry. Thank you so much for being here; very honored that you've come tonight.

Luke chapter 2 and verse number one. The Bible says: "And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was" — verse 6 — "that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered."

My message tonight is this: the accomplishment is the days. The accomplishment is the days. And if you'd put your Bibles down just a minute, throw your hands in the air, and pray like a bunch of Holy Ghost filled people know how to pray — that God will speak to each of us tonight — you'd make me feel a lot more comfortable. Lift your voice; call out to God for Word to come into your heart and life tonight. Jesus, I thank You for this time, for this special place we gather under the banner of Your love. Thank You, Jesus, that Your Word have free course to minister among us tonight. Let me decrease, oh God, so that You can increase in this place. Send Your Word and heal us tonight, God, in places where we're wounded and hurt. Send Your Word and heal us this evening, I pray, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. Amen. Amen. God bless you richly. You may be seated.

This matter of living for God, of working for God, is not for the fainthearted. It's not compatible with the undetermined, or the frail, or the uncertain. Now, let me be clear tonight: I will gladly and loudly testify to anybody who asks me — and even those who don't — this statement; I hope you agree with it: it's a good life, living for the Lord. I don't mean to be ugly, but some of you responded like it's good to have a Starbucks down the street. I said: no matter where else you go, or what else you do, or what else you ever touch in life, being in the church is the greatest thing you'll ever touch or taste. It is a good life, living for the Lord.

I am 59 years old. That is young to some of you, and it is ancient to those young people that were around this altar a little while ago. But for the entirety of my years, I have known nothing but life inside the framework of the Apostolic church. I was born to Apostolic parents, out of Apostolic grandparents. My earliest memories are waking up in church, having slept on my daddy's Bible, and I got "Red Letter Edition" stamped across my cheek for about 30 minutes. This is all I have known. I was a child in the church. I was a teenager in the church. I married in the church. I have aged in the church. I have lived my whole life in this Apostolic way. And you hear me: I am nothing but grateful. I have no regrets. Though the grammar may be lacking, I concur with the words of that old spiritual: "He ain't never done me nothing but good."

I want to just testify a minute. I walk under the banner of His protection. I am surrounded by songs in the night. He speaks peace when storms are raging. He's given me a spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind. He has redeemed my life from destruction. He has delivered me from the power of sin. He has delivered me from the practice of sin. He has delivered me from the penalty of sin. He is preparing a place for me to go and spend eternity with Him. I want somebody to tell me why I'd be looking for any other path. There is no other path. He is the way, the truth, and the life. I'm not looking for a better offer — there's not a better offer. This is what I have been, this is what I am, and by the grace of God this is what I'll be until the last breath I ever draw. Hell may not like it, but he can't stop it. I am an Apostolic, and I love it. Send your sympathy cards to somebody else. I'm loving how I live, and I'm living how I love. This is the greatest thing on the planet.

But with all that said, life does find ways to put your commitment to this thing to the test. We would be helplessly naive not to acknowledge and recognize and prepare for the fact that the days through which we walk are not all pink lemonade and daffodils. Now, some of the roads we walk will be gentle paths through green pastures beside still waters — the Bible promises us that. But others will be a rocky, winding pathway up the face of a steep hill that seems to be strewn with shards of glass. Some days are attended by songbirds; buzzards populate others. And the Bible teaches us this: you must read no further than Ecclesiastes chapter 3 to understand that there are both days of dancing and there are days of mourning. There are seasons of getting and there are seasons of losing. There are moments of laughter — thank God for them — because soon there will come moments of tears. We will know times of peace, but you'll also know times of war. And the drastic contrast from one day to the next is the hallmark of life here since the fall. And the thing is, they can change so quickly. The Bible says in Proverbs 27 and 1: "Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth."

Anybody besides me ever talk to the pillow in the morning and ask what you did wrong? Went to bed last night, things were good; life was fine; felt pretty good; folks seemed to like me. All I did was sleep. I got up, and chaos has ensued; the world's thrown upside down. You young folk won't understand this: how did I hurt my back sleeping? I felt good yesterday; I was on top of it. Devils were running when they saw me; now they're running, but they're coming at me. What happened? All that happened was the earth rotated on its axis, and the sun disappeared over the western horizon and showed up on the eastern one, and everything seems different, because you don't know what a day can bring forth.

And so I would maintain that one of the greatest accomplishments for a child of God is the days — not the years, not the decades, not the lifetime. Those come about by course, but it is the days. It's living for God through the days: days that vary so drastically from one to the next; days that present you the opportunity to quit, if you would be so inclined; days that whisper hopelessness and despair; days that try to convince you that it will always be this way; days that tempt you to lay aside your commitment and abandon your calling; days that seem to last well beyond their allotted 24 hours; days that try to silence your worship; days that assault your faith. I tell you today: the accomplishment of living for God is found in making it through the days. Come on, somebody: it's being a worshiper on Monday, when you don't feel anything and the echoes of Sunday are long since gone. It's singing a victory song on a day when everything looks dark and dirty. It's dancing through a diagnosis. It's praising through pain. It's singing through sorrow. It's testifying through tears. It's announcing to hell: "You better get this straight — I don't like it, but I can praise God today. I can live for God today. I can make it through this day. If you thought this is where I was going to quit, you're going to be sorely disappointed, because when the sun comes up tomorrow morning, I'm still going to be a one-God Apostolic. When the sun comes up tomorrow morning, I'm still going to be trusting God." I don't know how I'd live a year like this, but I can make it through today. I can still worship today. I can still praise God today. The accomplishment is the days. And one day after another, day after another day, I'm going to answer His call. I'm going to do His will. I'm going to reach my family. I'm going to build this church. I'm going to preach His Word. I'm going to finish what He assigned to me. And I don't know how many accolades I'll ever accumulate down here, but I know this: there's a crown being fitted for me, and He's going to put it on my head one day, because no matter what else I may do, I will accomplish the days.

I would have you consider with me the words of our text — Luke 2, the Christmas story. I certainly understand that the use of that phrase, "the days were accomplished that she should be delivered," literally means that her labor started; her biological mission, to be the womb in which the Christ child grew and developed, was completed; it was time for the Messiah's physical arrival into the outside world. But consider for just a moment what that phrase really says. Because for nine months, her body had been at work, providing shelter and nutrients, blood supply and oxygen, to that developing body which was the miraculous union of humanity and divinity. Day by day, she had been producing the body that would one day hang on Calvary.

I had heard a guy say — he was young, and only been married a couple years; he was dumber than hair. His wife is expecting their first child. He said, "I walked out to go to work that morning, and she was laying on the couch with her pregnant self. So I came back from work that night and walked in the door; she was laying on the couch." Young men, let me give you a bit of advice right here: whatever you do, do not follow what this man did. He looked at her and said, "What have you been doing all day?" Services will be held at 10 o'clock Tuesday for him. No — she answered — Brother Cornwell, one of the great — this should go down in a book of the greatest spousal comebacks ever. She looked at him and said, "Oh, today? Well, let's see: today, I made a lung." He said, "I just looked at her and said, 'I'm going to go fix dinner now. If you'll just tell me what you want, I'll bring it to you right here where you are.'" So I had nothing to come back with.

See what she was saying? That just because you can't see anything from your perspective doesn't mean that down where you can't see it, there wasn't something happening. Just because the X-rays haven't changed just yet doesn't mean God's not at work in ways you can't see. Just because we didn't baptize anybody last Sunday doesn't mean there's not a revival in the womb of this church. We may not have given birth to it just yet, but something's growing. Something's happening. I know, I know, I know. We haven't put pink and blue banners in the yard. We haven't plastered social media with his pictures yet. We haven't even held him yet. But today was one of nine months' worth of days that I had to get through, if I was going to get to that day. So don't you look at me and say nothing happened. I'll tell you what I did today: I accomplished the day.

Oh, Mary could have said: "Yeah, I know you only saw it when the process was completed — the skies rolled back over the shepherds' fields, and angels sang in the heavens, and the glory of God streamed down to earth, and the shepherds came and bowed down. Oh yeah, you saw it on that night. You saw it when Christ was fully formed. But you weren't there. There were no angel choirs on the mornings I had morning sickness. No shepherds bowed down to my swollen feet. My backache did not elicit parties and cards and cookies. No — we have parties when the process is over. But you don't get Bethlehem unless she accomplishes the days." Lepers were cleansed because Mary accomplished the days. Bartimaeus received his sight because the days were accomplished. Deaf men heard sounds because the days were accomplished. Blind men received sight because the days were accomplished. Funerals were interrupted because the days were accomplished. There's a blood-soaked cross and an empty tomb because the days were accomplished.

And on the day of your deliverance, you're going to say: "Yeah, I know you only saw me when the victory came. You only saw me when I was shouting on Sunday night, after the doctor said it was all better. You only read about it when my backsliding child came back home. But you didn't see — you didn't see the days when I skipped lunch to go pray in my car at work. You didn't see the days I went out in my backyard and laid face down in the grass and cried out to God. You didn't see the days that hell told me I might as well just quit, and I might as well just give up. But I stayed that day, and I stayed the next day, and I stayed the next. And the reason I'm celebrating now is because I accomplished the days."

Pastor, you hear me: if you baptized twenty this Sunday, that's not the accomplishment. The accomplishment is the Sunday that you preached and nobody came to the altar, but you stayed and preached again. That's the accomplishment. The accomplishment is not the Sunday that your unsaved spouse comes stumbling up the aisle and starts talking in tongues. The accomplishment is the Sunday you prayed and it seems like things got worse, but you just went to church the next Sunday, and you just got up on Monday and prayed again. That's the accomplishment. It's not when the angels sing; it's when there are no angels singing, and you just stay faithful anyway.

I need somebody right now, in the middle of your darkest trial, to confuse the devil and say, "Devil, you might as well get used to me. No matter what happens, I'm still going to be here. No matter when the answer comes, I'm still going to be here. No matter if it hurts, I'll still be here. No matter how alone I feel, I'll still be here. No matter how helpless it seems, I'll still be here — today, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day — because that is the accomplishment." I wish you'd praise Him all over this house right now. Go ahead, go ahead. I know you don't have the answer yet, but you're accomplishing a day. I know you haven't seen it yet, but you're one day closer. Just because I can't see it doesn't mean Christ is not being formed in you.

Martin Luther, the reformer, made this statement. He said, "There are only two days that are important in my calendar: that day, and this day." There is something profoundly dynamic about a commitment to faithfulness through the days.

I take you to a moment in the life of our Lord. He is approaching the end of His ministry on earth in mortal flesh; in fact, He has set His face toward Jerusalem, knowing full well the horrors that await Him not long after His arrival there. Some of the Pharisees come to Him and say, "Man, you better get out of here — Herod's going to kill you." Got to love those good-hearted Pharisees, always looking out for Jesus. Christ's response to them is very fascinating to me. He provides His itinerary for the next three days. He said, "You go tell that old fox" — that is not a term of endearment, in case you're wondering. English has got to be a hard language to master; it really does. All you young guys, listen to me — Uncle Scotty gives you good advice right now. If you look at a girl and say, "Baby, you are a fox," it's a good thing. You got the same girl and say, "Baby, you are a dog" — and they're very much the same; foxes and dogs, I mean, they're almost the same. But guys: you look at that girl and say, "Sweetheart, when I look at you, time stands still" — it's good. Look at her and say, "Sweetheart, your face could stop a clock" — not good. It's the same thing. Understand? Like, same thing. Jesus is not paying a compliment to Herod when He says, "Go tell that old fox, I'm going to be kind of busy the next three days: casting out devils today and tomorrow; I'm going to be healing the sick; the next day I'll be perfected."

I don't know what your calendar looks like for next week. I doubt if anybody here has got penciled in, "Monday through Wednesday: cast out devils; Tuesday, Wednesday: heal the sick; Thursday: perfected." That's a pretty impressive itinerary. If that's your week next week, you'll probably be preaching a conference next year. But He says, "But that's not all you need to tell him. You let him know also: all three days, I'm going to be walking." Now, walking ain't near about as glamorous as casting out devils. Walking doesn't catch near the attention that healing the sick does. Walking doesn't near about get you all the preaching invitations that being perfected might. I'll tell you what walking does: it gets you one day closer to your destiny tomorrow than you were today. He said, "I'll tell you what Herod better be scared of — in fact, I'll tell you what hell better be scared of." He said: "No matter what else is going on in my life, every day I'm getting closer to where He's taking me. Every day I'm getting closer to my miracle. Every today, I'm getting closer to my destiny. There's a mountain outside of Jerusalem; I'm going to climb that thing and destroy hell and break the power of sin, and every day I'm going to be getting a little closer. Some days it may be raining, some days it may be storming, but I'm getting closer. Some days it may look glamorous, some days it may look boring, but every day — you tell him — no matter what else happens, I'm not about to stop."

And that's all I'm saying. Somebody needs to announce to hell today: "If I get a miracle tomorrow, I'm going to keep walking. If I don't feel anything, I'm going to keep walking. If I see everything I'm looking for, I'm going to keep walking. If I don't see anything, I'm going to keep walking." Because the accomplishment is not the miracles. The accomplishment is not casting out devils. The accomplishment is the days. I may not have seen my church grow like I wanted, but I'm one day closer to the Sunday it's going to happen. I haven't seen the miracle in my marriage just yet, but I'm one day closer to the day it's coming. Ain't seen my child give up her drugs and come into church just yet, but I'm one day closer to her deliverance. I'm still in the battle. I ain't quit yet. So you just let Herod know that when I get to my destiny, when I get to the place that's designed for me, there's going to be a victory unlike anything we've ever seen before. The angels may not be singing today, but they will on that day. But the only way I hear the angel choir is if I go through this day.

In the ship's log for Christopher Columbus's journey across the ocean in 1492, there are numerous days, and all it says in his log is: "Sailed on today." No miracles. No "land ho." Didn't even see a flying fish. Fact is, it got a little boring. But I'm one day closer to what I'm aiming for than I was yesterday. And so you may not think it's important, but some were wanting to turn around and go back — but we sailed on today. Some said we didn't have a future — but we sailed on today. Some said we're no closer than we used to be — but we sailed on today. Somebody said, "Your church — you're never going to build a church in that little town" — but we sailed on today. Somebody said, "You're never going to see that miracle" — but we sailed on today. Somebody told me I might as well just give up — but I sailed on today. I ain't seen what I'm looking for; I haven't spotted my answer just yet. But I'm not quitting. And in the log of my life's journey, someday I'm going to set foot on another shore, and when I do, my testimony will be: there were some days that were hard, but I just sailed on today.

It is a truth that you must keep in focus: that the accomplishment is the days. It's days of prayer when nobody sees. It's days of preaching when nobody responds. It's days of faithfulness through weariness. It's days of service without applause. It's days of sacrifice without rewards. It's days of unseen devotion with no public notoriety. It's days of walking through challenges toward a destiny He's promised you. It's days of pressing past discouragement, because I've got an appointment on a hill of sacrifice that's going to defeat Satan yet again. It's days of believing in prayers you prayed when you don't feel one thing. It's days of preaching through pain because a sinner needs the gospel. It's days of living what you know is right, no matter how much your flesh resists it. It's days of standing for truth when you see others bow to compromise. It's days of worshiping when you'd rather not. It's days of singing when there's no music in your soul. I tell you, my dear brothers and sisters, when it's all said and done, the accomplishment is the days. It's not the crowd you've impressed. It's not the awards you've received. It's not the times that the cheers have rained down on you. It's not the miracles you've seen. It's the mundane, ordinary, difficult days when you just didn't quit.

I wish I could tell you that every day is going to be a glorious one, but that simply isn't true. We do a disservice to grace when we pretend that every day in kingdom life and kingdom service is just going to be peaches and cream. There's a Greek word for that doctrine: hogwash. We confuse new converts when we tell them everything is going to be great now, and then chaos erupts in the world the next week and they think, "Maybe there's nothing to this, because I didn't think it was going to be like this."

You know the song — we don't sing it as much as we used to. You still hear it; our church sings it every now and then, not like we used to. But we used to sing this song — see, you've got to pray for my wife. That sweet lady deserves — she is going to have stars in her crown; she has to live with me. I have ruined many a song for her. I am terribly left-brained, I know it. If you did an MRI of my head: right side, nothing. I like to think the left side's kind of crowded, but the right side — so I'm this linear, logical thinker. There are a lot of times we're sitting in church — I did better when the words weren't on the screen, because I'll read them, I'll lean over to her and say, "That's not even right." She said, "Just leave me alone. Do not ruin the song for me. Just let me worship." So I'm going to ruin one for you. We used to sing this song, several years ago we'd sing: "If it wasn't for the Lord, where would I be? My life was nothing until He set me free." At least act like you understand what I — okay. "What a change He made in my life." No — okay, no, don't encourage me, I wasn't asking — don't do it — "No more compromise on the wrong for the right; He made a difference, He made a difference in my life." Right, of course: "I don't walk — I used to walk — He made a difference." Yeah, man. We'd sing... then we'd get to verse two, and it starts okay, it does. I'm good with the first line: "He gives me joy" — because you've got to have a key change going into verse two — "He gives me joy that cannot be surpassed." That's fine. Watch: "I'm on a cloud from the first moment to the last." Wait a minute — I didn't get that memo. You mean every day I'm just living — I'm living beneath my privilege, about ten feet, because I'm in that cloud somewhere? Yeah. And I can go back further than that. I go back older — we used to sing this one, right: "Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before." Wait a minute. I mean, I know what we mean, but I'm pretty sure I've had some days I want to jump back about a week, because it's better back then than it is right now. I want to hit a time warp and jump back, because this day — it's tougher than that day. But God says: if you're going to get to that day, you've got to stay faithful in this day.

I'm preaching to somebody that has a "that day" out in front of you, but right now you're having a "this day." I plead with you: don't get discouraged and quit just because there's no angel choir singing yet. The day is coming when the days are accomplished; you will be delivered. When the days are accomplished, you're going to hold your miracle in your arms. When the days are accomplished, you're going to see Him face to face. Don't quit. You just have to accomplish the days.

Unless the musicians feel like they're being picked on, let me pick on the preachers — me — because a lot of us, when we were young in ministry, there's an infamous line we young preachers used to use when we were younger and dumber. You get all hunkered down, get your face all wrinkled up in that anointed look, and we'd say something that goes like this — Brother Cornwell, we'd say: "Your worst day in the church is better than your best day in the world." I know, I have two, I have two — and I know what we mean. I know what we mean, and theologically and from an eternal perspective, absolutely true. But here — I'm pretty sure I've had some days in the church that were less enjoyable than some heathen on Saturday morning, still hung over from whatever he did Friday night, looks out his front window and sees the Publishers Clearing House van in his driveway, dudes on the front porch with balloons and a big oversized check. I'm pretty sure he had a better day than I had in the church. He ain't — and his day was better than mine. My eternity is better than his, but his day — because the accomplishment is not a life; the accomplishment is the days. Yeah, I'm pretty sure, temporarily. Because see, here's the thing: no less an authority than the Word of God talks about days of slaughter, days of mourning, days of adversity, days of battle, days of evil, days of wrath, and days of calamity.

Sir — sir, my dear Mr. Mayor, I'm sorry for what you're going through today. I really am, genuinely, I'm sorry. These days come. The Bible tells us you're going to have days. But I want to encourage you with some words of the psalmist. I hope this blesses you. Psalm 37 and verse number 18 says this: "The Lord knoweth the days of the upright." I tell you today: whatever you're going through, God knows it. You didn't ever get up one day and face the uncertainty of what is coming that God wasn't standing by your side, saying, "I already got you ready for this. I'm already here for you. It's going to be okay." God knows the days of the upright. He knows your good days. He knows your bad days. He knows your easy days. He knows your hard days. But God says: your day of miracle is coming; you just have to accomplish the days. He knows the tears. He knows the fears. He knows the questions. He knows the hurt.

And here's the unfortunate news: every day has them. Matthew chapter 6 and verse 34: "Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." There's never been a day that didn't have enough evil. You never woke up, looked at your wife, said, "Honey, we've got a problem — we're fresh out of evil today." No, I promise you: you'll never have a day that there's not enough evil to go around in this world. He said, "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." If this doesn't bless you, I'm coming out there and sweat on you. Because that's not the only thing that the Bible says is sufficient. Jesus — "I've prayed for others and they were healed." Paul says, "Heal me." "No." "I've raised the dead — heal me." "No." "I've spoken to people and they got up off beds — heal me!" "No — why not?" "Because My grace is sufficient for you." Your day may have sufficient evil, but our God's got sufficient grace. You may be going through a hard stretch, but our God has sufficient grace. You may not know how this is going to turn out, but our God has sufficient grace.

I plead with you: don't stop. Don't quit. Don't lay down your worship. Don't stop dancing. Don't stop celebrating. Don't stop preaching. Pastor, go back and preach one more Sunday. I know the devil told you you ought to resign and go somewhere else, but I preach to you the fear of the Lord: you're one Sunday closer to your revival. You're one Sunday closer to your breakthrough. You're one— the problem is, Pastor, you're just dealing with morning sickness, and it's miserable, and nobody calls. Oh, you baptized twenty this Sunday, your phone will ring off the hook next Tuesday: "Hey, I heard what happened!" Did you preach on Sunday and two families leave and tell you they're not coming back? Don't nobody call: "Hey, what's the secret? What'd you do?" Just accomplish a day. And every voice out of hell tells you it's time to give up, tells you it's time to quit, and it's a burned-over field and you're never going to see what God— I dare you to bow up in this house tonight and stare at hell and say: "Yeah, we ain't baptized anybody in three months, but I'm three months closer to my revival than I was when this season started. And you know what I'm going to do this Sunday? I'm going to get up and preach Apostolic doctrine. Oh, you're trying to tell me I ought to water it down and quit and back up? No, no — I'm going to preach the Oneness of God and Jesus' name baptism until the paint comes off the wall, because every time I do it, I'm one day closer to the revival God promised me. He told me there's a breakthrough coming. I will not stop. I will accomplish the days."

Stand with me, if you would. "God, I'm not sure how to handle this." "My grace is sufficient for you." "God, I'm a little scared right now." "My grace is sufficient for you." "God, I'm tired. I feel like quitting." "My grace is sufficient for you." "I don't know how this is going to turn out." "My grace is sufficient for you." So I'll tell you what I'm going to do: I'm going to make it through today. And then tomorrow, I'm going to make it through another day. And then tomorrow, I'm going to make it through another day. And when I get to heaven someday and the angels say, "How did you get here?" I'm going to tell them: "I accomplished the days."

And so, when your miracle is laying there on the couch and it doesn't seem like it's moved at all today, and hell whispers in your ear, says, "What do you think you accomplished today?" — "I accomplished the day. And I still believe what I believed yesterday. And I still preach what I preached yesterday. And I'm still holding on to the promise I had yesterday. And I'm still claiming that God's going to do what I claimed He was going to do yesterday. You didn't make me stop. You didn't make me back up. You didn't make me quit. You didn't make me resign. You didn't make me run away. I can't see any progress, but I feel some. I feel something — it's moving down inside of me. I know you can't see it yet, and nobody's having a party yet, and they haven't instituted a holiday about what I'm going through right now, but down where you can't see it, something is at work." So I declare to hell, whether you like it or not: "This is the day that the Lord has made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it." How dare somebody that's in the middle of your trial screaming to heaven: "This is the day He made. I don't like it, but this is the day He made. I'm going to have to get through it, but this is the day He made. I will rejoice and be glad in it. For surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life" — hard days and easy days, fun days and sad days. I look behind me, and there's goodness and mercy coming up behind me. I may be facing an enemy, but goodness and mercy are following along behind me. And if I just keep walking, one day I'm going to look up, and that enemy that was in front of me — he's now behind me, and goodness and mercy are leaving footprints on his carcass, because I made it past him. Not in a moment, but in the days. "So one thing have I desired of the Lord — yeah — and that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life."

So the day will come. The days will be accomplished, and you'll be delivered. The skies will roll back, the angels will sing, the shepherds will come, everybody will know about it. On that day we'll write about it. The Pentecostal life — Brother Bernard may ask you to do a podcast. We'll all hear about it. On the Sunday when it breaks loose, we'll all celebrate then. On the day that your doctor says, "It was here last week, that tumor, but it ain't here this week" — oh, we'll all dance and celebrate that day. But to get to that day, you have to accomplish this day. And this day is not always as much fun. In fact, this day is never as much fun as that day. We're looking for that day, but to get to that day, you've got to live through this day: dark days, scary days, lonely days, depressing days. And hell — just when he thinks he has you — I pray that something that this sweaty preacher said tonight will resonate in your spirit, and you'll look at him from that couch and say, "I know nobody sees it yet, but Christ is being formed in me. And when my days are accomplished, everybody's going to know." The innkeeper doesn't know right now, but he'll know shortly. The shepherds are oblivious to it right now, but they'll be here in time. The Magi haven't even started their journey yet, but they'll head this way. Everybody — I'll catch everybody's attention on that day. But right now, I have to go through this day to get to that day.

Now, I know it would have been a lot easier for me — and I've done this long enough to be manipulative enough, if I want to be, to know how to do it — I could have ended with all of us just hollering and screaming. I didn't even want that tonight, because there won't be two thousand people with you tomorrow or next week. No — you'll have to accomplish that day by yourself. And so, while it would be easy to just shout ourselves into a frenzy tonight, I would much rather we'd make a covenant with God this evening that says: "God, I don't know how this is going to end. And I don't even want to think about a year like this — and a month like this is more than I think I could stand right now, and a week with this kind of pain is more than I want to deal with. But this is the day that You made. Give us this day our daily bread." And so I'm asking for somebody that's in the middle of your valley to throw your hands up in the air right now and begin to talk to Him. I'm asking you to make a covenant with God, that I'll make it day by day.

I'm talking to some pastor, pastor's wife: you're weary, and hell's been telling you it's time to quit. You better hear this preacher today. God sent you a word tonight: just buckle in. I know it's lonely. I know you don't know how it's going to turn out. I know you hadn't seen it yet. I know you thought it would have come sooner. Nine months seems like a long time for your church to be pregnant. But just keep being faithful. Don't back up on the doctrine. Don't back up on godly living. Don't walk away from these covenants. You just stay faithful. Mary — Christ is being formed. I'm telling somebody right now: there's a revival in the womb of your church. Keep preaching. There's a miracle in your family. Keep praying. There's a miracle in your neighborhood. Keep worshiping. There's a miracle on your job site. Keep witnessing. Don't you quit. Don't you quit. You're going to make it. You just have to accomplish the days.

I wish you'd join up with somebody by you and begin to pray in the Holy Ghost all over this house. I mean, not just these folks up front — from here to the back. I wish you'd get a hold of somebody and say, "You're going to make it. You're going to make it. Your miracle's coming. Your miracle's coming. Your miracle's coming. Don't you quit. Don't you quit. You just have to accomplish the days."