The Flotilla Nobody Organized

On August 12, 2016, floodwaters swallowed southern Louisiana. Before FEMA arrived, before the National Guard mobilized, something remarkable happened. Ordinary people — shrimpers from Lafitte, plumbers from Baton Rouge, retirees from Lake Charles — backed their fishing boats into the rising water and started pulling strangers off rooftops. They called themselves the Cajun Navy. No one issued orders. No one checked credentials. A rushing flood transformed everyday people into rescuers overnight.

When the Spirit fell at Pentecost, the transformation was even more astonishing. A rushing wind filled the house, and tongues of fire rested on fishermen, tax collectors, and tentmakers. Peter — the same man who weeks earlier couldn't admit to a servant girl that he knew Jesus — stood before thousands and preached with a boldness that startled everyone who knew him. The crowd thought they were drunk. Peter said no: this is what the prophet Joel promised. The Almighty was pouring out His Spirit on all flesh — sons and daughters, old and young, servants and free.

Pentecost wasn't a credentialing ceremony. It was a flooding. The Spirit rushed in and ordinary believers became witnesses who couldn't stop speaking about what they'd seen. God doesn't wait for us to feel ready. He sends the wind, lights the fire, and watches as people who had every reason to stay silent find they cannot keep quiet.