There was a story in the feeds this week about the musician Billy Corgan, who said he came to a decision at some point to talk about God openly — in his words, “I made my own personal decision that I was gonna be willing to talk about God in a way that I know most people in my generation do not talk” — and that he was willing to do it even if it cost him his career.
What struck me was not the fame. It was the word decision. He didn't say it happened to him. He said he made up his mind ahead of time, before the moment came, that he was going to say it.
Most of us will never have a career on the line. But nearly all of us have a room.
The room where you go quiet
You know the one. The break room at work where the conversation turns and you have something true to say and you let it pass. The group chat. The Thanksgiving table with the relative who thinks all this is a phase. The jobsite. The dorm hallway. The moment a coworker says something is hard right now, and you think I could pray for her, and instead you say, “Hang in there.”
Nobody threatens us. That's the strange part. We go quiet over something much smaller than persecution — the possibility of being thought odd. Of being the church guy. Of someone deciding you're not as smart as they thought.
Peter and John faced something considerably heavier. Arrested, held overnight, hauled in front of the council and ordered to stop. And Scripture records their answer plainly: “And they called them, and commanded them not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John answered and said unto them, Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye. For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:18-20).
We cannot but speak. Not “we've been assigned to speak.” Not “we're brave men.” Something had happened to them that would not stay in. You cannot unsee a healing. You cannot un-meet a risen Christ.
Boldness is something you ask for
Here is the part of that chapter people skip. Peter and John go back to their friends, report everything, and the whole group prays. They do not pray for protection. They pray, “grant unto thy servants, that with all boldness they may speak thy word” (Acts 4:29). And the room shook, and they were filled with the Holy Spirit, and they spoke the word of God with boldness.
That reframes the whole thing for me. Boldness in the Christian life is not a personality type. Some of us are wired to speak and some of us would rather be handed a shovel than a microphone — and neither of those is the qualification. Boldness is a gift the Holy Spirit gives to people who ask for it. It is available to the shy. It is available to the new believer who has known Jesus eleven days. It is available Tuesday morning before you clock in.
I watch this happen. Someone at our church who would tell you flat out that they are “not good at that sort of thing” ends up praying with a neighbor in a driveway, and comes back genuinely surprised at themselves. That's not technique. That's the Spirit doing what He was promised to do.
Decide before the moment arrives
Corgan's instinct was right on one count: the decision comes first, in the quiet, long before the room. If you wait until you're in the conversation to weigh the cost, the cost always wins. Settle it now. If it comes up, I'm not going to pretend I don't know Him.
And keep it small and honest. You are not required to win an argument. “Can I pray for you about that?” is a complete sentence. So is “God got me through something like that.” The psalmist's instruction is refreshingly simple: “Let the redeemed of the LORD say so” (Psalm 107:2). Say so. That's the whole assignment.
Mission Sunday is coming up on October 4, and it is easy to hear a word like mission and picture a passport. But most of the gospel's travel has always been a few feet at a time — one ordinary person in Ravenna or Muskegon deciding not to go quiet.
If you have already spoken and it cost you — a friendship cooled, a family member stopped calling, and no visible harvest came of it — you did not fail. Peter and John got a night in custody and an order to shut up, and God counted that as faithfulness. Christ Himself was refused by people He loved. The Spirit who gave you the words is not finished in the person who heard them, and He is not disappointed in you. Keep your mouth open and your hands open, and leave the outcome where it has always belonged.
Join us this Sunday at 10:30am — Outpouring Worship Center, Ravenna.