Glimpses of the Divine
I remember asking friends, How was the outreach? How was the gospel campaign?
And so often the answer was simple: It was amazing. God moved powerfully.
For a long time, that response left me unsatisfied.
What does that actually mean?
It sounds right – but it isn’t clear. It isn’t specific. It doesn’t tell the story. And at times, I wondered whether the movement of God was being confused with excitement, momentum, or numbers.
Now I find myself standing in the very same place. Because the truth is, there are moments when words simply fail. We see, so many things happen – but the moments that touch us most deeply often sound unspectacular and are almost impossible to describe.
How do you explain the hunger you see in the face of the one who has truly understood the gospel? How do you describe the glow, the quiet wonder in the eyes of the one who just has had an deep encounter with Jesus?
I love to see people healed.
I love to see people set free from demonic oppression.
And yes: where the gospel is preached, Jesus steps in and moves in undeniable ways.
Yet I believe the greatest testimonies God performs do not happen on the outside – but in the hearts of people.
What happens there is something we can barely grasp.
From the outside, we catch glimpses: small and great reactions, tears, shouts, smiles, a changed posture. But beneath all of that, you sense something deeper. Something shifts. Something holy happens. And you feel that destinies are being changed.
Sometimes there is a deep, almost unbearable peace.
Sometimes there is a radiant joy that fills the room.
It never looks the same.
That is why, for me, testimonies always feel incomplete.
What God does resists simple words.
And yet, we choose to share a few stories of what we witnessed anyway –
not because words are enough,
but because they point to what God has done and glorify his name.
Jesus is the same today yesterday and forever.Amen
UGANDA MARKET OUTREACH
This woman had been paralyzed on the left side of her body, from her head all the way down to her feet, for three long years. During that time, she lived with great limitation and pain, and many believed her condition would never change.
But as we were praying for sick people at the market the Lord touched her body, and the paralysis left her. What she could not do for years, God restored in a moment.
UGANDA . KIBOGA
This woman came with many afflictions in her body. Her neck had been broken, her hand was broken, her leg was broken, and she was experiencing severe pain, especially in her shoulder. The pain was very heavy, and her body was greatly affected.
As we prayed together, calling on the name of Jesus, she said she felt the wind of the Holy Spirit move over her. In that moment, God touched her body. The pain began to leave her, and strength was restored.
Jesus healed her. What had been broken was restored, and the pain that had weighed her down was gone. She can now lift her leg again, something she could not do before.
UGANDA.PABBO
We witnessed the Holy Spirit move like never before. The atmosphere was charged with His presence, so tangible you could feel it pressing in from every side. People began to respond in awe and surrender – some fell to the ground, completely overcome by the weight of God’s glory. Ushers led many to the Tent of Deliverance, where chains of long-held oppression and spiritual strongholds were broken, and people encountered freedom in ways that words can barely describe. Faces lit up with a mix of wonder, relief, and joy; tears flowed, laughter erupted, and prayers filled the air. It was raw, powerful, and deeply personal – every moment a testimony of hearts being transformed. To stand there, to see lives changed and burdens lifted, is both breathtaking and humbling. To be used by God in that way is something you never forget.”
UGANDA
At one of our youth outreaches, a young girl had been struggling with headaches and stomach pains for some time. When we prayed for her, it was as if the pain simply vanished. The relief and joy on her face were immediate and overwhelming.
