When I began working on this message, the Wall Street Journal reported that the entire world had come under a great cloud of fear. People in all nations are now paralyzed by world events. Immediately, my thoughts turned to our parishioners at Times Square Church. They show no such fear. Instead, while we all have a great soberness about these times, we also have a deep, abiding joy.

As I read through the Old Testament, I find my faith greatly encouraged by the example David set. An awful calamity struck this man causing his very life to be threatened by those closest to him. I am awed by David’s determination to get a word from God in the midst of his perilous time.

For years, I have been faithfully warning of a soon-to-come worldwide economic holocaust. Right now, we are seeing this coming to pass around the globe. I have warned that Christians are going to suffer, that there will be great loss and hardship, and already this is happening. Multitudes of precious saints all over the word are now enduring great financial and mental stress.

As awful as these things are, none of them should be the focus of our energies and ministry. Rather, we must continue proclaiming the love of God the Father and the tender mercy of our Savior Jesus for us.

In his first letter to the church, Peter speaks of the last days. He states bluntly: “The end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer. And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:7–8).

When God breathes the breath of his Spirit, everyone knows he has come. Luke, the author of Acts, writes, “Suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind” (Acts 2:2). I like a different translation of this last phrase, calling it “a strong wind, a blast.”

According to this verse, God’s breath came at Pentecost with a “sound from heaven.” Luke says this sound was mighty, rushing, filling the whole atmosphere: “It filled all the house where they were sitting” (2:2).

What is it about faith that keeps demanding of us greater testings? Why do our afflictions grow more intense, more severe, the closer we get to Christ? Just when we come through one trial that proves us faithful, our heart declaring, “Lord, I will trust you for everything,” here comes another test, increased in its intensity.

This experience is shared by Christians all over the world. I see it in all my travels, from continent to continent, and our ministry regularly receives letters from readers who testify of a growing intensity in their trials.

“Love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful” (Luke 6:35-36, my italics).

“As they passed by, they saw the fig tree dried up from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance saith unto (Jesus), Master, behold, the fig tree which thou cursedst is withered away. And Jesus answering saith unto them, Have faith in God.