How to Live in the In-Between

Peter stood before the crowd in Acts 2 and declared that Jesus had been crucified and raised to life, and that death could not hold Him. The people were cut to the heart and cried, “What shall we do?” That same question echoes through history. We live between two great moments - the resurrection of Jesus and His promised return - and the call remains: how will we live now? Across the world, there is a stirring of faith, from small towns to global movements. In the middle of uncertainty and weariness, God is on the move. The invitation is to notice, to respond, and to live awake to what He is doing in our time.

Live Honestly

Honesty is where renewal begins. It means facing what’s actually happening beneath the surface, not pretending we’re fine when we’re fractured. God doesn’t work with the version of us we wish existed - He works with the real us. To live honestly is to bring Him our flaws, our hidden habits, our frustrations, and our exhaustion, trusting that His grace is stronger than our shame. It’s also about living truthfully with one another, allowing confession and prayer to replace performance and pretence. When honesty enters a room, healing follows. Repentance isn’t punishment; it’s alignment. Each time we turn back to God, we step into freedom.

Live Humbly

Humility frees us from the exhausting weight of self-importance. It’s not thinking less of ourselves but thinking of ourselves less - lifting our eyes from our own reflection to the needs of others and the greatness of Christ. Pride says, “Look at me,” but humility says, “Look at Him.” The cross reminds us that anything good in our lives is grace, not achievement. In humility, our homes become gentler, our workplaces kinder, and our churches safer. God entrusts more to the people who no longer need to be noticed. The lower we go, the clearer His presence becomes. The way up is always down.

Live Hungry

Hunger is holy dissatisfaction. It is the ache that says, “There must be more of God than I’ve yet known.” Hungry people pray when others give up, worship when others coast, and open their homes expecting God to fill them. Hunger looks like persistence - it keeps asking, seeking, knocking, and showing up. When we draw near, He draws near. In that posture, stories unfold - ordinary people meeting in cafés, workplaces, and dinner tables, finding themselves caught up in what God is doing. The hungry don’t wait for perfect conditions; they create space for God to move. He comes where He’s wanted.

The world has known moments when prayer spread like fire - churches united, homes opened, cities changed. The same Spirit is still willing, still waiting for a people who will be honest enough to repent, humble enough to bow low, and hungry enough to cry out for more. We can’t manufacture revival, but we can prepare the altar. Every surrendered heart, every whispered “come, Holy Spirit,” becomes part of that story. The table is set; the invitation stands. In this in-between, between what Jesus has done and what He will do again, may our lives say with conviction and hope: God is on the move.