For many years, I was a joyless, powerless, struggling pastor. However, late in life and ministry, God opened my eyes to his glory, the depth of my pride, and the joyful wonder of the gospel. This changed everything for me. In 1988, Christ Community Church started in our living room in central New Jersey. We averaged 86 attendees for the first year—a good beginning. A year later, we added a second pastor, Rick Ravis. Attendance grew each year until 2002, when it reached 267. We were a growing, multistaff church that met on the campus of Rutgers University. I was on the path to ministerial success—until two events happened. Two Interruptions In August 2002, I decided to deliver my sermon without any notes. While studying at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, I’d been trained to preach without notes, and for a year in the 1990s, that was what I did. Although I reverted to using notes again, I didn’t believe it was the most effective way to preach. So I chose a Sunday, prepared carefully, and stood before my congregation—just me and my Bible. However, I felt strange and struggled to complete the sermon. Afterward, I told my wife, Patricia, what had happened. She said, “That sounds like a panic attack!” Not wanting to experience that again, I visited a counselor. Yet it did happen again, and again, and again. For almost a decade, every time I preached, I wrestled with anxiety. For almost a decade, every time I preached, I wrestled with anxiety. The second interruption in my journey toward success was the “big decline.” After increasing for over a decade, our church’s attendance began to decrease. By 2011, our congregation was about half of what it had been in 2002. Our leaders recognized we wouldn’t survive if the downward spiral continued, and we became desperate—so desperate that we concluded our only hope was Spirit-produced renewal. We began preaching about renewal, held “renewal conferences,” and took the entire congregation away for a renewal weekend. Some of us started praying for renewal weekly at 5:30 a.m. Praying for Renewal In the fall of 2016, Rick took an online course on leading a church to pray. It was taught by Daniel Henderson, who leads a ministry called Strategic Renewal. After completing the course, Rick recommended our leaders read Henderson’s book Old Paths, New Power. It discusses the importance of churches praying together, but I applied its lessons to my own life. I was a pastor who didn’t pray, at least not as I should have. I was busy; I had sermons to write, emails to answer, and meetings to lead. I wanted to pray, but too often, I didn’t. So I decided to pray for an hour each day, following the model taught by Henderson—worship-based, Scripture-fed, Spirit-led prayer. That first day, as I worshiped God out of the Scriptures, I freshly experienced God’s beauty and wonder. A profound sense of awe filled me. Time slowed as I caught a glimpse of God’s glory. I began to see that my people-pleasing, defensiveness, tendency to compare myself to others, and joylessness stemmed from pride. I confessed my pride and acknowledged my self-focused way. Then I experienced an unfamiliar emotion. What is that? I wondered. Oh, that must be joy. And it was. Not joy for a moment, a day, a week, or a month, but ongoing, enduring, transforming joy. I was 63. It was a spiritual awakening. Learning to Laugh What changed? Everything: My preaching became deeper and more fervent. I’d never been the leader I wanted to be, but now I began to lead. My self-conscious introversion dissipated. Five months later, I received an email from my brother. We talked weekly, but I hadn’t mentioned any spiritual experience. He wrote, “Remind me to ask you the next time we talk. I have noticed a remarkable change in you.” When we spoke, he said the first thing he noticed was that I’d developed a sense of humor. He was right; I’d learned to laugh. And it was joy. Not joy for a moment, a day, a week, or a month, but ongoing, enduring, transforming joy. The change was so dramatic that some people in my church called it “Dennis 2.0.” What happened to me? I wondered. Was it conversion? The baptism of the Spirit? I answered no to both. I believe it was a Spirit-produced awakening to the beauty of God, the depth of my sin, and the joyful wonder of the gospel. I was “filled with all the fullness of God” (Eph. 3:19) and began to live out of the overflow. That enabled me to live the gospel, no longer as duty but from the abundance of Christ in me. Gospel awakening can be sudden (as it was for me) or gradual (as it is for most). But however it happens, gospel awakening is essential to gospel living. Ongoing Joy I didn’t want to experience a mountaintop only to return to my pit of brokenness. I wondered, Is it possible for me (and others) to experience ongoing joy? Is it possible to have joy in a world of suffering and sorrow? Yes. I’ve discovered such a way, a gospel way—living in union with Jesus, by the power of the Spirit, and for the glory of the Father. This Jesus-centered, Spirit-empowered way brings joy even in a world of trouble. Once, before 2017, at my denomination’s annual conference, a pastor asked, “What’s wrong?” He’d seen the struggle and joylessness on my face. I don’t remember what I said to him, but he was right; something was wrong. A few years later, after 2017, I sat down for lunch at the same conference with a pastor I didn’t know well. He said to me, “You seem like a joyful person!” He was right. The joy of the Lord shone on my face.