It was one of those hot summer days in the beautiful city of Prague. After a few hours of outreach, I finally managed to cool down a bit in the shade next to the revival tent. My heart was full of expectation for what the Lord would do in the upcoming service.

As I was chatting with one of the translators, a slight unrest came over me. I wouldn’t say I was nervous, but I started looking around.
Somehow, it felt like something was urging me to walk away from the tent and head toward one of the tourist hotspots in the city. Finally, I realized that the Holy Spirit wanted to lead me into a divine appointment.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go share the gospel with someone,” I said. The translator, as dedicated as ever, asked if I needed her help. “No, I’ll be fine,” I answered—almost rudely. I left her and the team behind and walked away by myself.

During the short walk, I wondered what would happen next. The moment I arrived, three young men were highlighted by the Holy Spirit. They turned out to be Portuguese, so English was fine—no need for translation from English to Czech.
A very specific thought came to mind, and I was convinced I had just received a word of knowledge. Over the years, I’ve learned to discern these words of knowledge: the Holy Spirit gives them while asking me to take a leap of faith by sharing the word. I was confident this was one of those moments.

Honestly, though, none of the Portuguese guys could relate to the word. Bummer—or not? I decided to continue the conversation anyway. As I shared about Jesus and answered their questions, they seemed a bit surprised. Even though they had attended a Catholic school in the past, this was the first time they had truly heard the gospel.

“Hey guys, can you see the wind?” I asked. They said no—but they knew the wind existed because they could feel it.

“Can I pray for you to feel the love of God right now?” I asked. They agreed, and I prayed. True to His faithfulness, the Holy Spirit began to move.

“Would you like to start following Jesus Christ from today on?” Guess what their answer was? Out of the three, two were born again in that very moment.

One of the most precious lessons I learned that afternoon is this: all God needs is an open vessel. It’s not about our perfection—it’s all about Him and allowing Him to work through us. Even when we make “mistakes,” He is able to work miracles. Isn’t He a good Father?