The words sit down fool reverberated through the cavernous sanctuary of Cornerstone Church like thunder before a storm. Each syllable waited with decades of pastoral authority and unmistakable contempt. Pastor John Hegy’s commanding voice filled every corner of the massive auditorium as his weathered finger pointed with unwavering certainty toward the stage where Jonathan Roomie stood motionless beneath the unforgiving glare of professional lighting.

5,000 congregants sat frozen in their seats, their collective breath held in stunned disbelief. While somewhere in the distance, 12 million viewers across 197 countries watched their screens in horrified fascination as this moment of ecclesiastical confrontation unfolded in real time. The tension suffocating the atmosphere was palpable, thick enough to choke on as America’s most influential televangelist publicly challenged the actor who had brought Jesus Christ to life in The Chosen, dismissing his presence at this prestigious prophecy conference with a level of disdain that made even his most loyal staff members

shift uncomfortably in their seats backstage. The cameras continued rolling, operators instinctively knowing that whatever was happening transcended their typical broadcast protocol, capturing something far more significant than anyone had anticipated when the evening began. Jonathan Roomie, the man who had portrayed the Messiah with such profound impact in The Chosen season 4 and whose testimony had moved millions, maintained his characteristic stillness on the stage. The small silver cross hanging at his neck caught the light as

he stood before the verbal onslaught. His posture neither defensive nor defiant, but instead radiating a quality that seemed to emanate from somewhere deeper than mere acting technique could produce. This was the same man whose performance in The Chosen season 4 episode 8 had reduced countless viewers to tears.

The same actor whose collaboration with Joel Austin had sparked both celebration and controversy across Christian media platforms. And the same individual whose recent appearance with Charlie Kirk had generated intense discussion about faith, fame, and the intersection of Hollywood with ministry. The sanctuary’s atmosphere crackled with an almost electrical charge as Pastor Hegy’s voice rose again.

Each word carefully calculated to establish dominance and assert theological superiority. You think playing Jesus on a streaming show gives you authority to speak about scripture. You think Hollywood makeup and dramatic lighting makes you qualified to teach my congregation about the Messiah.

His decades of pastoral authority radiated from every syllable as the cameras captured what was rapidly transforming into the most controversial moment in modern Christian television history. The audience remained paralyzed between conflicting loyalties, uncertain whether to support their beloved pastor who had shepherded them for over four decades or to defend the man who had brought the gospels to life through the chosen season 5 and previous seasons.

Making scripture accessible to a generation that had largely abandoned traditional church attendance. Many congregants had themselves been transformed by the chosen, watching each episode with their families, discussing the humanity of Jesus over dinner tables, reconnecting with faith through the innovative storytelling that Jonathan Roomie and the entire cast had delivered with such authenticity.

But what would transpire over the next 38 minutes would fundamentally shake the foundations of everything both men believed they understood about ministry. Humility and the mysterious ways God chooses to speak to his servants. The confrontation that began with public humiliation would evolve into something neither man could have predicted.

Something that would force both pastor and actor to confront truths they had spent years carefully avoiding. Because when Jonathan quietly began to share what the Holy Spirit had revealed to him about John Hegy’s most carefully guarded secret during an extended prayer session 3 days earlier. Information that no publicist information that no staff member, no family member, and not even Hegy’s own wife Diana knew about. The legendary preacher’s weathered face went completely ashen.

His hands, which had gripped countless pulpit with unwavering confidence for over 40 years, began trembling uncontrollably, and his voice, which had commanded stadiums and broadcast studios with absolute certainty, cracked with raw emotion as he whispered words that would subsequently be replayed millions upon millions of times across every inhabited continent.

How could you possibly know that Hegy’s question emerged barely above a whisper? His entire body language shifting from aggressive confrontation to vulnerable confusion in the space of a single breath. I’ve told no one, not a single living soul.

What Pastor John Hegy did not yet comprehend was that God had been orchestrating this precise confrontation for months, carefully positioning circumstances and people like pieces on a divine chessboard, using the most unlikely vessel imaginable to deliver a message that would either completely destroy Hegy’s carefully constructed ministry empire or transform it into something more powerful, more authentic, and more kingdom focused than he had ever dared to imagine.

And now, as the whole world watched through their screens, witnessing this raw moment of ecclesiastical drama unfold without script or rehearsal, everyone present would soon discover which path this legendary preacher would ultimately choose. The confrontation had erupted with such startling suddenness that even the seasoned production crew, veterans of thousands of broadcasts from this very sanctuary, found themselves momentarily paralyzed, uncertain how to respond to what was rapidly spiraling beyond their carefully planned programming schedule just moments earlier. And the atmosphere throughout Cornerstone Church had been celebratory,

almost jubilant, as Pastor John Hegy had welcomed the prophecy conference attendees with his characteristic energy and charismatic delivery, his passionate preaching style, filling the 5,000 seat sanctuary with the kind of spiritual electricity that had established him as one of Christianity’s most recognizable and influential voices for more than four decades.

The stage itself gleamed beneath layers of professional lighting equipment. Massive LED screens flanking both sides, displaying scripture verses in multiple languages as strategically positioned cameras captured every angle for the global broadcast network that routinely reached an estimated 12 million viewers across 197 countries. The technical sophistication of the production rivaled any major network broadcast, reflecting the substantial resources and decades of experience behind Hegy’s international ministry organization.

Pastor Hegy had devoted the sermon’s opening 20 minutes to discussing end times prophecy with the commanding authority of someone who had authored over 40 books on biblical interpretation and delivered thousands of sermons to m congregations around the world.

He wo through the book of Revelation with practiced precision, connecting contemporary global events to ancient biblical prophecy in ways that made complex theological concepts accessible to everyday believers. The congregation listened with wrapped attention, many leaning forward in their seats and furiously taking notes as their pastor connected prophetic dots with the confidence born from decades of intensive biblical study and pastoral experience.

Then in what initially appeared to be a gracious gesture of crossgenerational ministry collaboration, Hegy invited Jonathan Roomie to the stage to share insights about how the chosen was successfully bringing biblical narratives to a new generation increasingly disconnected from traditional church structures. The announcement triggered enthusiastic applause throughout the sanctuary.

many congregants being devoted followers of the groundbreaking series that had become a genuine cultural phenomenon. Transcending typical Christian media to achieve mainstream recognition and impact, Jonathan walked across the stage with his characteristic humility.

dressed simply in dark jeans and a button-down shirt that seemed deliberately understated compared to Pastor Hegy’s formal ministerial attire. The small silver cross at his neck, a personal symbol of faith he wore both on and off camera, caught the stage lights as he smiled warmly toward the congregation, thanking the pastor and expressing genuine gratitude for the invitation to participate in this significant prophecy conference.

The chosen has been such an extraordinary gift. Jonathan began, his voice carrying naturally across the massive sanctuary without requiring him to project artificially. Not because of anything we as a cast and crew have accomplished through our own abilities, but because people everywhere are genuinely hungry to encounter Jesus as a real person to understand and appreciate that he laughed with his disciples, wept over human suffering, experienced authentic friendship, and lived a fully human life while simultaneously being fully divine.

The congregation responded with enthusiastic nods and verbal affirmations. Several people calling out agreement as Jonathan continued speaking about the countless testimonies flooding in from viewers who had never previously opened a Bible, but were now reading the Gospels with fresh eyes after encountering the series.

Stories poured in daily through social media and email about atheists reconsidering their positions, agnostics asking questions about faith, and nominal Christians discovering genuine relationship with Christ for the first time through watching The Chosen season 4 and previous seasons. That was the precise moment when Pastor John Hegy interrupted his entire tone shifting dramatically from warm welcoming host to aggressive theological interrogator in the span of a single breath.

But let me ask you something, Jonathan. Hegy’s voice took on an edge that immediately altered the atmosphere throughout the sanctuary. You’re an actor by profession. Correct. You studied theater at universities, not theology at seminary. You learned your lines from television scripts written by screenwriters, not from years of intensive biblical study and authenticated pastoral ministry. The shift in emotional temperature was immediate and profoundly uncomfortable.

Several staff members positioned in the wings exchanged worried glances. Uncertain whether this confrontation represented planned content or genuine conflict erupting without warning, Jonathan nodded respectfully, maintaining his composure despite the obvious challenge in Hegy’s tone and body language. That’s absolutely correct.

Pastor, I’m not a professionally trained theologian by formal education. Jonathan acknowledged with genuine humility, though I have devoted the past seven years to intensive study with respected biblical scholars, historians, and theologians to ensure authenticity in portraying Christ. 7 years, Haggi cut him off with a dismissive wave.

His voice growing progressively louder and more aggressive, his body language becoming increasingly confrontational. I’ve devoted 43 years to full-time ministry. 43 years preaching the uncompromised word of God across this nation and around the world. Earning my doctorate in theology through rigorous academic study. Pastoring this congregation through countless challenges and seasons. Teaching and discipling thousands of believers.

Writing books that have equipped Christians worldwide to understand biblical truth and resist cultural compromise. The pastor paused for effect, allowing the weight of his credentials to settle over the congregation before continuing his interrogation. So, when you stand on my stage and presume to talk about portraying Jesus Christ, I have legitimate questions that demand answers.

What specifically gives you the authority to represent the Son of God? What makes you believe that memorizing dialogue written by Hollywood screenwriters actually qualifies you to present the Messiah to millions of impressionable viewers around the world? The congregation’s earlier warmth evaporated completely, replaced by thick tension that seemed to physically press down on everyone present. Several staff members in the wings looked increasingly distressed.

one production assistant quietly speaking into her headset, apparently seeking guidance from leadership about whether to continue filming or cut away from what was rapidly deteriorating into an embarrassing public confrontation. The cameras, however, continued rolling. Operators, instinctively recognizing that whatever was unfolding represented something far too significant to interrupt or censor. Jonathan’s face remained remarkably calm.

His posture unchanged despite the clear and increasingly hostile challenge being directed toward him in front of thousands of witnesses and millions of broadcast viewers. His hands remained loosely clasped in front of him. His body language completely non-defensive, radiating a piece that seemed impossible given the circumstances.

Pastor Hag, I want you to know that I completely understand your concern. Jonathan responded with genuine empathy, his voice steady and respectful. If I were in your position, having devoted my entire adult life to faithful ministry and biblical teaching. I would absolutely ask these same questions. The responsibility of attempting to portray Jesus Christ is something I have never, not for a single moment taken lightly, and I remain constantly and acutely aware of my own profound inadequacy for such a task. Inadequacy is precisely right,” Hegy

interrupted again, his tone growing sharper and more cutting with each exchange. Because let me tell you something, young man, and I want you to listen carefully. Playing a character in a television production and genuinely understanding the unfathomable depths of Christ’s divine nature are two entirely different things separated by an impassible chasm.

The pastor’s voice rose as he warmed to his argument. His decades of preaching experience evident in his rhetorical command. You’ve got professional makeup artists spending hours creating just the right look. Lighting technicians positioning equipment to generate maximum emotional impact. Talented directors telling you precisely how to move, exactly how to speak, where to stand, what expressions to convey.

But that carefully constructed performance is fundamentally not the same as having the Holy Spirit authentically reveal Christ’s eternal truth through decades of prayer, intensive biblical study, and a genuine divine calling to pastoral ministry that has been tested and proven through years of faithful service.

The audience had grown visibly uncomfortable. The emotional atmosphere in the sanctuary now crackling with awkward tension. Some congregants nodded along with their beloved pastor, their loyalty to decades of his leadership overriding any discomfort with his aggressive approach.

Others, however, looked increasingly disturbed by the harshness and public nature of what felt less like theological questioning and more like personal attack. Several people quietly pulled out their smartphones, already capturing video clips and posting them to various social media platforms where the confrontation was beginning to go viral in real time, generating thousands of comments and shares within minutes.

Jonathan took a slow, measured breath, his hands remaining loosely clasped in front of him, his body language remaining completely non-defensive despite the escalating hostility. You’re absolutely correct that acting and pastoral ministry represent different callings requiring different gifts and training. I have never once claimed to be a pastor, teacher, or theological authority.

I’m simply an actor who has been given the extraordinary and humbling privilege of attempting to portray, “Sit down, fool.” The words exploded from Pastor John Hegy’s mouth with such unexpected force and venom that several congregants gasped audibly, hands flying to their mouths in shock. The sanctuary, which had been filled with uncomfortable murmuring just seconds earlier, fell into absolute suffocating silence.

“You think playing Jesus on a streaming show gives you any authority whatsoever to speak about scripture?” Heggy’s voice thundered across the sanctuary with the full force of his considerable preaching power. You think Hollywood makeup and dramatic television lighting somehow makes you qualified to teach my congregation? people I have shepherded faithfully for decades about the Messiah.

He paused, his breathing heavy, his face flushed with emotion that appeared to transcend mere theological concern. I’ve watched your show, Jonathan. Yes, it’s entertaining. Yes, it’s well produced with impressive production values and competent acting. But entertainment is not anointing.

Production value and streaming platform success are not remotely the same as prophetic calling. And I absolutely will not have someone stand on this stage in this house of God that has been consecrated through decades of faithful preaching and pretend that acting in a television series is somehow equivalent to the authentic powerful move of the Holy Spirit in genuine ministry.

The silence following this pronouncement was absolutely deafening. so complete that the ambient sounds of the building’s ventilation system became audible. Jonathan stood completely still, his face showing no visible anger, no the fence, no hurt pride, but instead displaying a deep sadness that seemed to emanate from somewhere profound within his spirit.

The cameras captured the stark contrast between Hegy’s aggressive confrontational posture and Jonathan’s peaceful stance. Between the pastor’s flushed face and the actor’s composed calm, between institutional authority, asserting dominance and quiet humility, receiving abuse without retaliation. The production crew continued filming despite their obvious discomfort.

Several camera operators appearing visibly distressed behind their equipment. The congregation’s expressions ranged from shock to approval to confusion to outrage. A divided house, uncertain how to process what they were witnessing. Within the sanctuary and across the digital landscape where the broadcast was being watched, reactions were already forming along predictable tribal lines. what absolutely no one in that packed sanctuary could possibly know.

What remained completely hidden beneath Pastor John Hegy’s confident and aggressive exterior was the intense internal battle raging inside him at that precise moment. Behind his carefully maintained facade of pastoral certainty and theological authority, Hagi was fighting personal demons he had shared with absolutely no one.

Not even his closest confidants or his wife of four decades. For the past 6 months, Hegy had been waking abruptly at 3:00 in the morning, his body drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding with a nameless fear that seemed to originate from somewhere deeper than conscious thought could access. His ministry appeared to be thriving by every measurable external standard.

Cornerstone Church maintained robust attendance. His broadcast reached millions globally. His books continued selling steadily. His prophecy conferences drew thousands of committed attendees. And his influence within evangelical Christianity remained substantial. Yet despite all these markers of success, something fundamental felt hollow inside.

An emptiness that money couldn’t fill. A claim couldn’t satisfy. an achievement couldn’t touch. He would sit alone in his private study late into the night, surrounded by floor toseeiling shelves packed with theological works representing four decades of accumulated scholarship and feel a growing internal emptiness that terrified him precisely because he couldn’t articulate its source or nature.

Just two weeks before this confrontation, Haggi had experienced a complete breakdown in his private prayer closet. weeping with an intensity and desperation he hadn’t felt since his father’s death decades earlier. God, am I still genuinely reaching people? He had prayed with desperate urgency, his voice breaking in the empty room.

Have I become so rigid in my positions, so focused on defending doctrinal correctness and maintaining theological boundaries that I’ve completely forgotten how to actually reach human hearts? The questions had poured out in the darkness. The world is changing faster than I can comprehend. Cultural shifts are happening that I don’t understand. And I honestly don’t know anymore if what I’m doing still matters.

If my ministry still has relevance, if I’m reaching anyone beyond people who already agree with me. He had shared these anguished prayers with absolutely no one. Not his wife Diana who had stood beside him through decades of ministry challenges. Not his executive staff who depended on his leadership and vision.

Not his own adult children who had their own complicated relationships with his ministry and public persona. His public image remained strong, authoritative, absolutely unshakable because that was what people expected from him. what his role demanded, what his position required. But privately, in those 3:00 morning hours, when defenses crumbled and pretense became impossible, Hegy was terrified that his ministry had gradually transformed from reaching souls into defending territory.

From proclaiming good news into protecting institutional boundaries, from serving God’s kingdom into building his own empire. The chosen had become a particular point of internal conflict that he couldn’t resolve or escape. His own grandchildren, who had grown progressively distant from church attendance despite being raised in a prominent pastoral family with every spiritual advantage, were suddenly asking sophisticated questions about Jesus, discussing biblical narratives with genuine interest and engaging with scripture in ways he hadn’t witnessed since they were small children. All because of watching the chosen. His

youngest son, Matthew, who had barely opened his Bible voluntarily in years despite decades of his father’s preaching and regular church attendance growing up, was now enthusiastically hosting watch parties for the chosen episodes, discussing scripture with friends and displaying a hunger for spiritual truth that John hadn’t seen since Matthew was a child, sitting wideeyed in Sunday school.

This should have brought Pastor Hegy profound joy and gratitude. Instead, it filled him with a confusing resentment that he couldn’t fully acknowledge or understand. Why was a television show produced by Dallas Jenkins reaching his own family members when decades of his faithful preaching, teaching, pastoral care apparently hadn’t? Why were actors like Jonathan Roomie and others in the chosen cast connecting with a generation that seemed increasingly immune to traditional ministry approaches? These questions haunted Hegy’s 3:00 morning

prayer sessions, making him feel small, petty, jealous, and threatened. He was mature enough to recognize these feelings as problematic, spiritual enough to know they reflected poorly on his character. yet seemingly unable to shake the gnawing sense that perhaps ministry was passing him by, that God was moving in ways he didn’t understand, couldn’t control, and might not be invited to participate in.

And now standing on his own stage beneath lights installed through his ministry’s resources, confronting this actor who seemed to embody everything Hegy felt threatened by. All of that carefully suppressed internal turmoil was erupting in the form of public humiliation directed toward a guest he himself had personally invited to participate in the conference.

The absolute worst aspect of the situation was that Hegy knew even as the harsh words left his mouth that he was fundamentally wrong. that his aggressive attack was not righteous defense of theological truth, but rather fear and pride masquerading unconvincingly as doctrinal concern. Yet somehow he couldn’t seem to stop himself from continuing down this destructive path before thousands of witnesses in the sanctuary and millions of viewers watching the spectacle unfold in real time across the globe.

The momentum of his anger fueled by months of suppressed anxiety and unprocessed fear. carried him forward, even as a quieter voice in his spirit whispered desperately that he was making a terrible mistake that would haunt him. Jonathan Roomie remained standing center stage, his eyes meeting Pastor John Hegy’s aggressive glare with a gentleness that seemed humanly impossible given the public humiliation he had just endured before thousands of people and millions of viewers.

The congregation sat absolutely frozen, collectively holding their breath, waiting with almost unbearable tension to see how this actor would respond to being called a fool by one of Christianity’s most powerful and influential voices. Pastor Haggy, Jonathan said softly, his voice somehow carrying across the silent sanctuary without any trace of defensiveness, anger, or wounded pride.

I genuinely want you to know that I hear your concern. I understand the weight of responsibility you feel and I deeply respect the decades you’ve devoted to faithfully serving God’s people with integrity and commitment. The simplicity and genuine humility of his response caught Hegy completely offg guard.

For a brief moment, the older pastor’s confident, aggressive posture wavered almost imperceptibly, his hand gripping the pulpit edge slightly tighter, as if needing physical support. I’m not here to compete with your ministry in any way, nor to claim any authority I don’t legitimately possess.” Jonathan continued with the same gentle tone. I’m just a broken man who was unexpectedly given an opportunity to attempt to portray the Savior in a television series.

And that opportunity, that responsibility changed my life in ways I never could have anticipated when I first auditioned for the role. The transparent simplicity of his response created an unexpected opening in the conversation. Changed your life. How? Exactly? Hegy asked.

his voice still carrying a sharp edge, but with something resembling genuine curiosity, beginning to break through the defensiveness. You achieved fame and recognition through the role. You became a recognizable face in Christian culture that changes anyone’s life circumstances, but that’s not the same thing as spiritual transformation.” Jonathan nodded slowly, acknowledging the valid distinction.

You’re absolutely right that the show brought a level of public recognition and professional opportunity that I never saw it and honestly wasn’t prepared for. But that’s not the change I’m talking about. Pastor, the transformation I’m referring to goes much deeper than career advancement or public platform. The congregation leaned forward collectively, sensing an atmospheric shift from hostile confrontation towards something resembling authentic testimony.

Several people in the back rows stood quietly to get a better view of the stage, not wanting to miss whatever was about to unfold. Before The Chosen, I was like many actors working in Hollywood. Jonathan continued, his hand unconsciously touching the small silver cross hanging at his neck. I was spiritually searching but relationally distant from God in any meaningful way.

I had been raised in the Catholic faith, attended church regularly as a child, participated in all the religious activities expected of me. But by my 30s, I had essentially convinced myself that I could pursue a relationship with God on my own terms. In my own time, without real commitment or genuine surrender, the sanctuary had grown remarkably quiet.

Even the earlier whispers and shuffling ceasing as people instinctively recognized they were hearing something authentic and unrehearsed. “When I first auditioned for the role of Jesus in The Chosen,” Jonathan continued, his voice carrying both vulnerability and wonder. I honestly thought it was just another acting job.

A particularly challenging role certainly given the subject matter and the cultural significance, but still fundamentally just another professional opportunity in a competitive industry. He paused, his eyes distant with memory, but something completely unexpected happened during that initial audition that I wasn’t remotely prepared for. I was performing the scene where Jesus calls Matthew from the tax collector’s booth, speaking the lines, hitting the marks, doing everything technically correct from an acting perspective.

And right in the middle of the audition, I felt the Holy Spirit speak to my heart with such unmistakable clarity that it stopped me cold. Pastor Hegy’s confrontational expression had shifted to something more complex. A mixture of lingering skepticism and reluctant interest.

His arms, which had been crossed defensively across his chest, loosened slightly. “So, what did this voice say?” he asked. His tone jitter now. “Less aggressive.” The message was devastatingly simple and absolutely clear. Jonathan replied, his eyes glistening slightly at the memory. I heard in my spirit, “You cannot play me if you do not actually know me.

You cannot portray intimacy with me that you do not genuinely possess in your own life.” The words hung in the air with prophetic weight. Several congregants nodded knowingly, recognizing the spiritual principle Jonathan was describing. Others sat with tears forming in their eyes, unexpectedly moved by the raw honesty of his testimony.

So what did you do with that? Hegy pressed his journalist instinct for probing questions overriding his earlier hostility. How did you respond to that internal conviction? I went home that night after the audition and got on my knees for the first time in years. Jonathan replied, his voice thick with emotion at the memory. Not the casual peruncter prayers I’d been offering occasionally when I remembered or when circumstances became difficult, but Ganuan the spirit gut-level prayer from a place of absolute spiritual poverty.

He took a slow breath before continuing. I told God with complete honesty that I couldn’t do this role, that attempting to portray Jesus was beyond my spiritual capacity, that I was fundamentally a fraud who didn’t have the authentic relationship with him required to portray his son with any real integrity or authenticity. And that’s when everything in my life began to change. pastor.

Not when I eventually got the role. Not when the show became successful and started breaking streaming records, but in that specific moment of complete honesty about my spiritual bankruptcy. The sanctuary had gone so silent that the sound of the ventilation system became clearly audible. Every person present was hanging on Jonathan’s words.

The earlier discomfort replaced by genuine spiritual hunger. God met me in that prayer time in a way I had never experienced in my entire life. Jonathan continued, his voice filled with authentic wonder. For the first time in my adult life, I began to understand what it actually meant to have a genuine living relationship with Jesus Christ.

Not just intellectual knowledge about him accumulated through religious education, not just cultural Christianity inherited from family tradition, but actual intimate relationship with the living God. He paused, letting the weight of that distinction settle over the congregation. And I realized with startling clarity that I couldn’t fake that relationship on camera, couldn’t manufacture authentic intimacy through acting technique alone. Either I would pursue genuine relationship with Christ in my actual

life, or I would have to walk away from the role entirely and tell the producers I wasn’t the right person for it. Pastor John Hegy stood quietly behind his pulpit. His earlier aggression visibly dissipated as he processed what he was hearing. Something in Jonathan’s transparent testimony was touching a carefully guarded place in his heart.

Reaching past his defensive barriers to connect with his own suppressed struggles. The younger man’s honest admission of spiritual poverty resonated uncomfortably with Hegy’s own secret 3:00 morning prayers when he admitted to God that decades of success felt increasingly hollow and meaningless.

“But you’re still fundamentally an actor playing a role,” Hegy said. though his voice now carried genuine curiosity rather than accusatory aggression. How do you reconcile performing as Jesus in a television production with genuinely following him in your actual life? Isn’t there a significant danger of confusing the character you portray with spiritual reality? Jonathan smiled slightly, genuinely appreciating the honest question. That’s exactly the tension I live with every single day.

pastor, and you’re absolutely right to identify that spiritual danger. There have been numerous moments on set, particularly when filming powerful scenes from the Gospels where I’ve had to deliberately stop, step away from the cameras, and remind myself clearly I am not Jesus Christ.

I am Jonathan Roomie, a sinner who desperately needs Jesus, just like every other broken person on this planet. He touched the cross at his neck again. This cross I wear is my constant physical reminder of that crucial distinction. I am the one who needs saving, not the one who does the saving. The congregation was now completely engaged in the conversation.

The earlier toxic discomfort replaced by genuine spiritual interest. Several people were taking notes, others recording the exchange on their phones, recognizing they were witnessing something significant and unscripted. Every single morning before I go to set to film scenes for The Chosen, Jonathan continued with quiet intensity. I spend a minimum of 2 hours in prayer and scripture reading, and I’m not primarily preparing for scenes or studying my lines during that time.

I’m genuinely communing with the Jesus I’m about to attempt to portray. I pray desperately for humility, for spiritual accuracy, for the Holy Spirit to guide not just my performance, but fundamentally my heart and my life. He paused for emphasis.

I pray that viewers watching the show won’t see me trying to act like Jesus, but that somehow despite my completely inadequate attempts, they’ll encounter the real Jesus. That he’ll use even a flawed vessel like me to draw people to himself. What the audience couldn’t see or know was the parallel spiritual struggle happening inside Pastor Hegy’s heart at that precise moment.

As Jonathan spoke vulnerably about the danger of confusing performance with reality, Hegy was confronting his own version of that same struggle in ways that cut deep. How many years had he been performing the role of confident all- knowing pastor while privately feeling lost and uncertain? How many sermons had he preached with authoritative certainty while his own faith felt shaky and his prayers felt empty? How many times had he stood in this very pulpit declaring absolute truth while secretly questioning whether his ministry still mattered? I don’t know if you’ve ever personally experienced this dynamic. Pastor Jonathan said carefully, his

voice remaining gentle and non- accusatory. But sometimes I’ve discovered that the greatest spiritual danger isn’t outright rebellion against God or obvious moral failure. The most insidious threat is often the subtle drift that happens gradually when we become so busy doing ministry, fulfilling responsibilities, meeting expectations, maintaining appearances that we forget to maintain our own intimate relationship with the one we’re supposedly serving.

The observation landed like a prophetic bomb in the sanctuary. Success can actually be more spiritually dangerous than failure. Jonathan continued, “Because success convinces us we’re doing fine, that everything is working, that God must be pleased, when in reality, our souls might be slowly starving for authentic connection with him.

” The words hung in the atmosphere like a prophetic utterance spoken directly from heaven. Pastor Hegy’s weathered face had gone noticeably pale, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the pulpit edge with increasing intensity. Jonathan Roomie, who had never met John Hegy before this evening, had just articulated with devastating precision exactly what Hegy had been experiencing for months, but couldn’t find words to express to anyone.

“How would you know about that?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Now, the confrontational pastor completely replaced by a vulnerable man asking a genuine question born from deep pain. How could you possibly understand that specific struggle? Because I’ve lived it myself. Pastor, Jonathan replied simply, his compassion evident. in the middle of The Chosen’s greatest success.

Right when season 4 was breaking all kinds of viewership records and the show was being celebrated across Christian media, I found myself spiritually empty inside. I was going through all the external motions of portraying Jesus convincingly on camera while my own prayer life had become mechanical and distant.

While my own relationship with God was deteriorating, he let the confession settle before continuing. It was absolutely terrifying to realize I could play the Savior convincingly enough to move millions of viewers to tears while my own heart was growing progressively farther from him in reality. The disconnect between my public persona and my private spiritual condition became unbearable.

Hegy’s hands began trembling visibly as he listened, seeing his own desperate journey reflected with painful accuracy in Jonathan’s confession. Two years into filming The Chosen, Jonathan continued, “I experienced a complete spiritual crash. We were on set filming the scene where Jesus weeps over Lazarus’s tomb.

This incredibly emotional moment in the gospel narrative. And right in the middle of the take, I broke down completely for real. Not as Jesus mourning his beloved friend Lazarus, but as Jonathan Roomie, realizing with devastating clarity that I had lost my authentic connection to God while playing him for cameras and audiences. The congregation sat in wrapped attention, many now openly weeping as they recognized their own spiritual struggles reflected in this honest exchange.

I left the set that day without explanation. Got in my car and drove for 2 hours to a monastery outside Austin, Texas. Jonathan said, “I spent three complete days there in total silence with God, alone in a small room with nothing but a Bible, dealing with the brutal truth of who I really was versus who I had been pretending to be for cameras, for audiences, for the Christian culture that had embraced the show.

” Pastor Hegy’s grip on the pulpit loosened as he listened, his whole body language beginning to shift from defensive hostility towards something more open. “And you know what God showed me during those three days of silence and brutal honesty?” Jonathan asked, “Though the question was clearly rhetorical, he showed me that he doesn’t need my performance.

He doesn’t need me to be spiritually perfect or to have all the theological answers carefully formulated. He just needs me to be honest, to be broken, to be willing to admit when I’m desperate for him, when I’m failing, when I’m empty. The simplicity of the message carried profound weight. The best thing I ever did for my portrayal of Jesus, Jonathan said with quiet conviction, was to completely stop trying to be adequate for the role and to simply remain dependent on the real Jesus every single moment.

Onset and off, in public and in private, the testimony was having a visible effect throughout the sanctuary. Hardened skeptics found tears forming unexpectedly. Devoted Hegy supporters felt their loyalties conflicting. Young people who had drifted from church felt something stirring in their spirits.

The cameras continued rolling, capturing every nuanced moment for the millions watching remotely. If you’ve ever felt that painful gap between your public faith and your private spiritual reality, Jonathan said, looking beyond Hegy to address the entire congregation and broadcast audience, if you’ve ever experienced the crushing weight of appearing to have everything together spiritually while internally feeling lost and disconnected from God, then you need to know you’re not alone in that struggle.

And God’s grace meets us exactly where we are, not where we pretend to be for others. Pastor John Hegy’s grip on the pulpit loosened completely as he took an unsteady step backward. The fight visibly draining from his posture like air escaping a punctured tire. The congregation watched in absolute amazement as their typically unshakable pastor.

The man who had stood behind the same pulpit for over four decades with unwavering confidence seemed to struggle visibly with emotions. He rarely if ever displayed publicly. You talk about that gap between what people see and what’s really happening in your heart. Heggy said quietly, his voice carrying a vulnerability that shocked everyone who knew him well.

How do you actually bridge that? How do you keep from becoming a complete hypocrite, a total fraud when you’re constantly expected by everyone around you to have all the answers, to never struggle, to always be spiritually strong? The question was no longer an attack or a challenge.

It was a genuine, desperate plea from a man who had been struggling alone in silence for far too long. Carrying burdens he had shared with absolutely no one, Jonathan took a slow pro, measured breath, clearly recognizing the significant shift that had just occurred in the conversation. Pastor, can I share something with you that I’ve never said publicly before? something I haven’t even shared in interviews or on podcasts.

Hegy nodded slowly. His defenses completely lowered now. Please, I need to hear it. Two years into filming The Chosen as the show was exploding globally and millions of people were watching. Jonathan began his voice steady but waited with painful memory. I hit a wall spiritually that I didn’t see coming. The show’s success was beyond anything anyone had predicted.

We were breaking streaming records, getting covered in mainstream media, receiving testimonies daily from people whose lives were being transformed. And gradually, subtly, I started believing a dangerous lie. The congregation leaned in collectively. Pastor Hegy moved slightly closer to the edge of the platform. genuinely interested now rather than hostile. Pride is remarkably subtle.

Pastor, Jonathan continued, “It doesn’t usually announce itself. Obviously, it creeps into your heart disguised as gratitude, disguised as calling, disguised as anointing.” I started thinking that maybe I was somehow special, that perhaps my prayers were more effective because I was portraying Jesus, that my understanding of scripture was deeper than others, that the character I was playing was somehow elevating me spiritually above other believers.

Several people in the audience nodded knowingly, recognizing their own struggles with pride in different contexts. Pastor Hegy’s eyes widened slightly, seeing his own battle with superiority and special status reflected uncomfortably. “What happened?” Hegy asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “How did that play out?” “I crashed,” Jonathan said simply.

“The two words carrying enormous weight. I completely fell apart spiritually. I was filming the scene where Jesus weeps over Lazarus, as I mentioned, and right in the middle of the take, I broke down entirely. Not as Jesus mourning his friend, but as Jonathan realizing with devastating clarity that I had lost my authentic connection to God while playing him for millions of viewers.

He paused, allowing the weight of that confession to settle. I left the set immediately, drove 2 hours to a monastery and spent 3 days in complete silence with God. Just me and Jesus. No phones, no distractions, no scripts, no commas. Dealing with the brutal truth of who I really was versus who I had been pretending to be. Pastor Hegy’s face went completely pale, his breathing becoming faster and shallower as Jonathan’s words opened wounds he had tried desperately to keep sealed.

“And you know what God showed me,” Jonathan asked. “He doesn’t need my performance. He doesn’t need me to be adequate or special or anointed in my own strength. He just needs me to be honest, to be broken, to be willing to admit when I’m desperate for him.” The words landed on Pastor Hegy like a physical weight, pressing down on decades of carefully constructed pastoral identity.

His hands began trembling uncontrollably now, visible to everyone in the front rows. I’ve been so afraid, Hegy whispered, the words barely audible at first, then louder, his voice cracking as the dam holding back months of suppressed emotion finally broke completely. I’ve been so terrified that if I admit I’m struggling.

If I confess that I don’t have all the answers anymore, that I wake up at night questioning everything I’ve spent my entire adult life building, then everything will fall apart. my church, my ministry, my reputation, my family’s respect for me. Tears formed in his eyes then began streaming down his weathered face as 43 years of always needing to be right, always needing to appear strong, always needing to have answers, began crushing him under their accumulated weight.

The congregation gasped collectively, having never witnessed their pastor in such complete vulnerability. Several people began weeping themselves, deeply moved by the raw honesty. Others reached for their spouse’s hands, recognizing the courage this level of transparency required.

“Pastor Hag,” Jonathan said gently, taking a small step closer while maintaining respectful distance. Can I tell you what God has been consistently showing me about you over the past several months? Haggi looked up sharply, his eyes red and swollen with unshed tears, and nodded slowly, almost fearfully, as if both desperate to hear and terrified of what might be revealed.

“For the past 3 months,” Jonathan said carefully, “you’ve been on my heart constantly during my prayer times. I had never met you in person. didn’t know you personally but your face kept appearing persistently in my mind during prayer. So I started praying for you specifically regularly intentionally asking God to show me how to intercede for you.

Pastor Hegy stood frozen processing this impossible information about 3 weeks ago. Jonathan continued, his voice remaining tender but absolutely firm. I was reading the passage in John’s gospel where Jesus washes the disciples feet in the upper room. And as I meditated on that scene, I felt God speak so clearly to my spirit that I grabbed my journal and wrote down every word immediately. He paused, his eyes locked on Hegy’s.

God said, “John Hegy has faithfully washed my people’s feet for over four decades with dedication and commitment, but he’s forgotten to let me wash his feet. He’s so busy serving others. So focused on meeting everyone else’s needs that he’s forgotten how to receive from me, how to let me serve him, how to be ministered to rather than always being the one who ministers.

” Pastor John Higgy’s legs seemed to weaken beneath him, and he grasped the pulpit with both hands to steady himself. “How could you possibly know that?” he whispered, his voice shaking uncontrollably. “That’s the exact image that’s been haunting me for months. Keeping me awake at night. Jesus trying to wash my feet and me pulling away stubbornly, insisting I need to wash everyone else’s first, that I’m too busy serving to be served.

” His voice broke completely as the impossibility of Jonathan knowing this intensely private spiritual struggle became undeniable. The cameras captured every raw moment. operators now openly moved to tears themselves, no longer maintaining professional distance from what they were witnessing. God also showed me something else, something even more specific.

Jonathan continued, his own eyes glistening with tears. Now, 3 days ago, during my morning prayer time before heading to set, I felt him say with crystal clarity, “Tell Jon that I see him. Tell him that his 3:00 morning prayers haven’t gone unheard or unnoticed. Tell him that I’m not disappointed in his questions or frustrated by his doubts.

Tell him that I’ve been waiting patiently for him to stop performing strength he doesn’t actually possess and to let me be his strength instead. The silence that followed was absolute and holy. The kind of profound quiet that only occurs when heaven invades earth in undeniable ways. Pastor Hegy stood completely frozen, his face a mixture of shock, overwhelming relief, and devastating recognition.

My 3:00 morning prayers, he repeated slowly, his voice trembling. I’ve told absolutely no one about those. Not my wife Diana, who sleeps beside me every night. Not my executive staff who depend on my leadership. Not my closest friends or my own children. He paused, struggling to continue through his tears. I wake up at 3:00 in the morning almost every single night.

Have been for 6 months now, praying the same desperate questions. God, do you still see me? Do I still matter in your kingdom? Have I become so rigid in my theology, so set in my ways, so defensive of my positions that you’ve moved on without me? The confession opened floodgates of emotion. Several congregation members sobbed openly, recognizing the incredible courage this level of transparency required from someone in Hegy’s position.

Others raised their hands in spontaneous worship, recognizing they were witnessing genuine prophetic ministry. The Holy Spirit revealing secrets not to shame but to heal. Exposing hidden things not to embarrass but to restore. AC is you pastor. Jonathan said with absolute conviction born from divine confidence. God has never stopped seeing you. Not for one second, not for one moment.

And he specifically sent me here tonight to tell you that he’s proud of your four decades of faithfulness. He wants you to know that your service matters deeply, that your ministry has genuine kingdom value, but he’s inviting you into a completely new season of ministry. A season where you don’t have to carry the burden of having all the answers.

where you can rest in his strength instead of desperately trying to manufacture your own. Pastor John Hegy stood at his pulpit, tears streaming freely down his face as he processed the impossible accuracy of Jonathan’s prophetic words about his most private prayers. The weight of 6 months of solitary spiritual struggle seemed to physically lift from his shoulders as the truth penetrated his defenses.

How did you know about my 3:00 morning prayers? Hegy asked again, his voice still breaking with emotion. How could you possibly know the exact words I’ve been praying in complete secret? Jonathan took a deep breath, understanding that what he was about to share would either be dismissed as coincidence or recognized as genuine divine intervention. Pastor, I need to tell you specifically about what happened 3 days ago because I believe with absolute certainty that God orchestrated this entire encounter long before either of us knew we’d be standing here together tonight. The sanctuary fell into even deeper

silence. Every person sensing that something profoundly significant was about to be revealed. Three days ago, Jonathan began his hand touching the cross at his neck. I was in my trailer on the chosen set during a break between filming scenes. I was still in costume, still wearing the robes and sandals, and I felt this overwhelming almost physical urge to pray, not casual prayer, but deep intercession.

he continued. I knelt down on the floor of that trailer and as I started praying, your face appeared in my mind as clear as if you were standing right in front of me. I could see you standing at a pulpit. I could see deep pain in your eyes. I could sense the enormous weight you were carrying.

Even though we’d never met, never spoken, never had any contact whatsoever. Heggy’s knees buckled slightly and he gripped the pulpit harder, his knuckles turning white. “That’s absolutely impossible,” he whispered. Though his tone suggested he was beginning to believe that the impossible was exactly what was happening.

“I didn’t even know you were coming to this conference until 2 weeks ago when my staff finalized the program schedule.” Jonathan nodded slowly. “I know, pastor. That’s exactly what made it so remarkable and undeniable as a divine encounter. And as I knelt there in my trailer praying for you, I felt God speak to my heart with such crystal clarity that I immediately grabbed my phone and typed out every single word he said so I wouldn’t forget or misremember any detail.

He pulled out his phone, opening his notes app, God said, and I’m reading this exactly as I wrote it. John Hegy is one of my faithful servants, but he’s carrying a burden I never asked him to carry. He thinks his value depends on having all the answers, on never showing weakness, on always being the strong leader everyone expects.

But I’m calling him into a completely new season where his greatest ministry will flow not from his own strength, but from his willingness to be weak, to be vulnerable, to let me be strong in him. The congregation sat absolutely transfixed, some with hands covering their mouths, others weeping openly as they witnessed prophetic ministry operating with undeniable accuracy.

Pastor Hegy’s face flushed, his entire body trembling. There’s more, Jonathan continued gently. God showed me specific things, details. There’s no possible way I could have known through natural means. He paused, choosing his words carefully. He showed me that you’ve been having a recurring dream about being trapped in a massive library surrounded by thousands of books you’ve written and studied over your decades of ministry.

In the dream, you’re searching desperately for one specific book you need, but you can’t find it anywhere, no matter how frantically you search. and you wake up feeling that all your accumulated knowledge and scholarship still isn’t enough, that you’re missing something crucial.

” Pastor Hegy gasped audibly, his hand flying to his chest as if physically struck. “I’ve had that exact dream at least once a week for 3 months,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “Sometimes multiple times in one week. How could you possibly know that I haven’t told anyone? Not even my wife, who wakes up sometimes to find me distressed.

The impossibility of the specific detail registered with everyone present, creating an atmosphere of holy awe. Staff members backstage stared at each other in complete disbelief. Hammer operators abandoned all pretense of professional detachment. Several congregation members raised their hands spontaneously in worship, recognizing the supernatural work of the Holy Spirit, operating in undeniable power.

God also showed me something about your son. Jonathan said carefully, treading gently into even more personal territory. Your youngest son, Matthew, you’ve been heartbroken watching him drift progressively away from faith over the past several years, and you’ve blamed yourself repeatedly, wondering if your demanding ministry schedule pushed him away, if your expectations were too high, if somehow you failed him as a father.

Pastor Hegy’s carefully maintained composure shattered completely and utterly. He sank to his knees behind the pulpit. No longer able to stand under the weight of these revelations. His hands covered his face as decades of suppressed grief. Fear and parental anguish poured out in wrenching sobs. Matthew, he choked out.

My youngest son stopped coming to church two years ago and I didn’t know how to reach him. I can preach to thousands, write books that people read around the world, but I couldn’t reach my own child. I couldn’t bridge that gap. The raw vulnerability devastated everyone watching. This was Pastor John Hegy, powerful preacher and influential leader, reduced to weeping openly about his greatest failure and deepest pain.

The cameras continued recording, but the moment had transcended television production to become something sacred and intensely private made public for divine purposes. Jonathan moved closer, kneeling beside Hegy on the stage platform, placing a gentle hand on the older man’s shoulder with genuine compassion. “Pastor, God wants you to know something specific about Matthew right now. Your son hasn’t rejected Jesus Christ.

What he rejected was the performance of faith, the pressure to have everything figured out perfectly, the expectation of spiritual certainty in a world that feels uncertain. Hegy looked up sharply, his tear stained face, a mixture of desperate hope and lingering disbelief. What do you mean? How do you know anything about Matthew’s spiritual condition? God showed me something beautiful.

Jonathan replied with a gentle smile. Matthew has been watching The Chosen in secret without telling anyone in the family. He’s been crying during episodes, genuinely encountering Jesus through the show in a way that feels spiritually safe to him, reconnecting with Faith on his own terms without the pressure of his famous father watching and evaluating.

Heggy’s eyes went wide, searching Jonathan’s face. What is that actually true? How do you know that? Jonathan’s smile broadened slightly. Because 3 days ago, after I received that prophetic message about you during prayer, I felt specifically led to reach out to Matthew directly through social media, I sent him a private message introducing myself and asking about his faith journey.

pastor. He responded within hours and he poured out his heart about his love for Jesus despite his distance from church about his fear that he disappointed you about his struggle to reconcile genuine faith with what felt like performance expectations. Heggy’s sobbs intensified, but now they mixed with desperate hope rather than pure grief.

He responded to you. My son actually opened up about spiritual things. He never talks to me about faith anymore. He shuts down completely whenever I try to bring it up. God is already working in Matthew’s heart. Jonathan assured him. He’s ready to reconnect. He’s been ready. What he’s been waiting for.

What he desperately needs is for you to be vulnerable enough to admit you don’t have everything figured out either. That you struggle too. that following Jesus is a journey rather than a destination. A prophetic word began flowing through Jonathan with increasing clarity and power. God showed me one more specific thing.

Pastor, during that prayer time three days ago, I saw a clear picture in my mind of you and Matthew sitting together on a couch in your home, watching the chosen together, talking about Jesus, not as famous pastor and wayward son, not as spiritual authority and struggling believer, but simply as father and son. both following Jesus, both learning, both growing.

The image penetrated deep into Hegy’s desperate heart. “Is that actually possible?” he asked, looking up with red, swollen eyes filled with fragile hope. “Can I really reach him again after years of distance?” “Not only is it possible,” Jonathan said with quiet confidence born from genuine prophetic insight.

But God has already been preparing Matthew’s heart specifically for this. He’s ready to talk to you. He wants relationship with you. All he’s been waiting for is for you to be vulnerable enough to admit you’re human, too. That you don’t have all the answers. That you’re still learning to follow Jesus yourself. The prophetic declaration landed like a bomb of hope in the sanctuary. The congregation erupted spontaneously in worship.

Many standing with hands raised, others remaining kneeling, all recognizing they were witnessing an authentic move of the Holy Spirit. This was not manufactured religious excitement or emotional manipulation. This was the Holy Spirit moving in undeniable power, exposing secrets not to shame, but to heal, revealing hidden things not to embarrass, but to restore broken relationships and wounded hearts.

Pastor Hegy remained on his knees, but his posture gradually shifted from collapsed despair to humble receptivity. 3 days ago, he said slowly, processing the timeline carefully. You were praying for me specifically, receiving detailed prophetic words from God about struggles you couldn’t possibly have known about through any natural means.

God was already orchestrating this exact encounter, already preparing both of us for this moment. He looked up at Jonathan with wonder, breaking through his pain. I invited you here, thinking I would challenge you theologically. Maybe expose you as just another Hollywood actor capitalizing on faith culture. Prove that entertainment isn’t the same as authentic ministry.

Instead, God used you to expose me to myself, to show me that I’m the one who’s been performing, hiding behind theological certainty and pastoral authority. While my heart was slowly dying inside, the transformation was visible and undeniable to everyone present. The defensive, aggressive pastor who had called Jonathan a fool just 30 minutes earlier was gone completely replaced by a broken, humble man encountering God in ways he hadn’t experienced in decades.

Perhaps in his entire ministry career, Jonathan Hegy said, his voice filled with wonder and genuine gratitude. I owe you an apology. I could spend the rest of my life trying to make adequate I called you a fool in front of thousands of people and millions watching on broadcast. I dismissed your calling contemptuously. I mocked what God has been doing through you and the chosen.

And all along, God was sending you here as his direct messenger to save me from drowning in my own pride, isolation, and spiritual bankruptcy. The atmosphere in Cornerstone Church had completely transformed from confrontational tension to sacred reverence as both men knelt together on the stage.

Tears flowing freely, walls crumbling, authentic spiritual breakthrough happening in real time before thousands of witnesses. Pastor John Hegy slowly rose to his feet, his legs still somewhat unsteady, and reached out with both hands to help Jonathan stand beside him. They embraced briefly and when they separated something fundamental had shifted between them that everyone present could sense.

I need to say something directly to everyone here and to everyone watching via broadcast. Hegy said turning to face the congregation and cameras. His voice still thick with emotion but carrying a new kind of strength that comes only from humility rather than pride. 30 minutes ago. I called this man a fool. I publicly attacked his calling, aggressively questioned his credentials, and contemptuously dismissed the work God has clearly been doing through him and through the chosen series.

His voice cracked, but he pushed forward with determination. I did this because I was afraid, because I felt threatened, because my pride couldn’t accept that God might be moving powerfully in ways I didn’t understand, didn’t control, and wasn’t invited to oversee. Because seeing my own grandchildren and my own son respond to a television show when they hadn’t responded to decades of my preaching wounded my ego in ways I couldn’t acknowledge.

The raw honesty was shocking coming from someone in Hegy’s position. Several people gasped quietly. Many nodded slowly, appreciating the courage. But the real fool standing on this stage tonight has been me. Hegy continued, his voice gaining strength. I’ve been so busy defending my theological position, protecting my ministerial reputation, maintaining my image as the pastor who has all the answers and never struggles.

That I completely lost sight of the God who consistently calls us to humility, to vulnerability, to honest dependence on him rather than false self-sufficiency. The congregation responded with soft affirmations and verbal agreement. Many people nodding through their own tears.

“Jonathan,” Hegy said, turning to face him directly while still speaking into the microphone so everyone could hear. “I don’t just owe you an apology. I owe you my deepest gratitude. God used you tonight to literally save my spiritual life. To rescue me from a prison of pride and isolation I didn’t even fully realize I was trapped inside.

You stood here with remarkable grace while I attacked you publicly, and you responded with a love and gentleness that could only come from genuinely knowing Jesus rather than just knowing about him. Jonathan’s eyes filled with tears as Hegy embraced him again without hesitation or concern for appearances.

When they pulled apart after several long seconds, the dynamic between them had fundamentally transformed. No longer established minister versus Hollywood actor, no longer defender of orthodoxy versus entertainment personality, but simply two brothers in Christ who had encountered God together and been forever changed by that encounter.

“I need to tell you all something else,” Hegy said, turning back to face the congregation, his voice growing progressively stronger. For 6 months, I’ve been waking up at 3:00 every morning, praying prayers I was far too ashamed and afraid to share with anyone. I’ve been desperately asking God if I still mattered to his kingdom. If my ministry was becoming irrelevant and obsolete, if he was moving forward without me because I’d become too rigid and defensive. The admission sent visible ripples of shock through the audience.

Several staff members in the wings were openly weeping, their faces reflecting a complex mixture of emotions. But what Jonathan shared with me tonight through genuine prophetic revelation showed me I was asking entirely the wrong questions. Hegy continued, “The question isn’t whether I’m still relevant or whether my traditional ministry methods still work in contemporary culture.

The real question is whether I’m still walking in intimate, authentic relationship with Jesus. Whether I’m still genuinely letting him lead me rather than trying to lead him. Whether I’m still humble enough to admit when I’m lost and desperately need his guidance. He paused, looking around the sanctuary at faces he’d known for decades. And the honest answer has been, “No. I haven’t been walking in intimate relationship with Jesus.

I’ve been operating on old revelation, relying on past experiences, defending positions I established years ago. I’ve been so terrified of appearing weak or uncertain that I stopped letting God be strong in my weakness. I stopped admitting when I didn’t know. I stopped asking questions. I stopped being honest about my struggles.

I want to ask all of you for forgiveness, Hegy said, his voice breaking again. I’ve been your pastor for over 40 years. And I love each one of you, but I’ve also led you poorly in significant ways by never showing you that it’s okay to struggle spiritually. Okay to admit when you feel empty, okay to acknowledge when you don’t have all the answers.

I’ve modeled religious performance instead of authentic relationship. I’ve demonstrated theological certainty instead of honest seeking. The congregation’s response was overwhelmingly supportive rather than judgmental. But Hegy raised his hand gently to continue. God is calling me personally and I believe calling all of us corporately into something genuinely new.

Not new doctrine or new theology, but a completely new way of relating to him authentically. A way of faith that values honesty over appearance. That prioritizes vulnerability over projected strength, that pursues authentic relationship over religious performance and cultural respectability. He turned toward Jonathan again with genuine warmth.

This man and his television show have been reaching people that I’ve completely failed to reach. my own grandchildren, my own son, an entire generation that found traditional church irrelevant. And instead of celebrating what God was doing, instead of rejoicing that the kingdom was advancing, I resented it. I saw it as competition instead of collaboration.

I viewed it as a threat to my relevance instead of evidence of God’s continued activity in new wine skins. Hegy’s voice grew more passionate. But God has shown me clearly tonight that there’s more than enough room in his vast kingdom for all of us. We’re not competitors fighting for limited resources or audience share. We’re collaborers in the same harvest field serving the same Lord. Jonathan placed his hand on Hegy’s shoulder.

Pastor, can I pray for you right now? Hegy nodded immediately, closing his eyes. The congregation fell into profound silence as Jonathan began praying. His voice filled with authority that comes only from genuine communion with God rather than religious training. Father, I thank you specifically for your faithful servant John Hegy.

I thank you for his four decades of dedicated service to your people. Lord, I ask that you would heal the deep wounds that pride and fear have created in his heart. Release him completely from the crushing burden of trying to be strong enough on his own. Remind him powerfully that your grace is absolutely sufficient for every need.

That your strength is made perfect in weakness. That he doesn’t have to carry weights. You never asked him to bear. As Jonathan prayed with increasing fervor, something visible began happening. Pastor Hegy’s face, which had been tight with stress for months, began visibly relaxing.

His shoulders, which had been perpetually tensed, began releasing their accumulated tension. Several people later testified they witnessed what appeared to be a visible lifting of oppressive weight from his physical body. And father, I specifically pray for Matthew. Jonathan continued. And Hegy’s knees nearly buckled again at the mention of his son’s name.

I pray that you would supernaturally restore the relationship between father and son that has been damaged by pride, expectations, and misunderstanding. I pray that you would use J’s newfound vulnerability and honesty to create a bridge of authentic relationship where walls of disappointment once stood. Hegy wept openly. But these were clearly tears of release, of hope, finally breaking through despair, of healing, beginning to flow into wounded places.

Lord, we consecrate this moment to you. Jonathan prayed with building intensity and authority. Let what has happened here tonight go out through broadcast and social media to millions of people around the world who struggle with the same fear of weakness, the same crushing pressure to perform, the same gap between public faith and private spiritual reality.

Let them see through this encounter that your kingdom advances not through our manufactured strength but through our surrendered weakness. When Jonathan finished praying and Hegy opened his eyes, his face appeared genuinely transformed. There was a peace radiating from him that hadn’t been visible for months. A freedom that comes only when accumulated years of burden are finally surrendered completely to God.

“I feel fundamentally different,” Hegy said with genuine wonder in his voice. I feel like I can breathe freely for the first time in months, maybe years. This is what genuine repentance feels like. This is what happens when you finally stop trying to be sufficient in yourself and you let God be completely sufficient in you. The congregation rose spontaneously to their feet in thunderous and sustained applause that wasn’t polite or merely respectful, but represented genuine celebration of people who recognized they had witnessed an authentic miracle of spiritual transformation. This wasn’t manufactured religious excitement, but

organic response to undeniable divine intervention. I want to do something right now. Immediately, Huggy said, his voice strong with newfound purpose and clarity. Jonathan, I want to publicly honor what God is doing through The Chosen. I want to partner with you and Dallas Jenkins to use the considerable platform God has given me to amplify and support the work he’s doing through your show.

He turned toward his staff members standing in the wings. Contact Dallas Jenkins first thing tomorrow morning. Tell him that Cornerstone Church wants to host an official premiere event for The Chosen season 5 when it releases. Tell him we want to organize watch parties across our network of churches.

Tell him we want to do anything we can to help more people encounter Jesus through this powerful medium. Jonathan stood stunned by the complete reversal. Pastor, you don’t have to do that. I’m not expecting. Yes, I absolutely do have to do it. Hegy replied firmly, cutting him off. Not out of guilt or obligation or trying to make up for attacking you publicly, but out of simple obedience to what God is showing me.

My role isn’t to compete with what he’s doing elsewhere or to defend my territory. My role is to celebrate what he’s doing anywhere, to recognize and affirm that his kingdom is infinitely bigger than my individual ministry or denominational preferences. The two men embraced again, and this time when they pulled apart, Hegy did something that shocked everyone present.

He knelt on the stage platform, deliberately humbling himself before the congregation. This is the posture God has been calling me to, he explained. Not the authority figure who has all the answers and never struggles, but the servant who’s willing to learn, willing to change, willing to honor what God is doing, even when it challenges my assumptions and threatens my ego.

” Jonathan immediately knelt beside him, refusing to stand over him in any way. “We’ll pray together,” Jonathan said gently. Because neither of us has anything to offer except what God gives us moment by moment. We’re both just broken vessels being used for his glory. Completely dependent on his grace. The two men prayed together on their knees as the congregation watched in reverent silence.

many kneeling in their own seats, all recognizing they were witnessing authentic Christianity that reflects the heart of Jesus who washed his disciples feet and calls all his followers to humble service rather than proud authority. When they finally stood again several minutes later, both men’s faces were radiant with the supernatural joy that comes only from complete surrender to God’s will.

The confrontation that had begun with such hostility and tension had been utterly transformed by direct divine intervention into genuine repentance, supernatural restoration and spirit forged unity that can only be created in the refining fire of humble transparency before God and others.

As the cameras finally stopped rolling after nearly two hours of continuous broadcast and as the congregation began slowly filtering out of Cornerstone Church into the night. The spiritual atmosphere remained absolutely electric with what everyone had witnessed.

Staff members approached Pastor Hegy with tears streaming down their faces, embracing their pastor with deepened love and respect born from seeing his vulnerability rather than being disillusioned by it. Within mere hours, the footage began circulating explosively across the internet, and what happened next exceeded anyone’s wildest expectations.

Within 24 hours, the unedited video had been viewed over 15 million times across multiple platforms. Within the first week, that number exploded exponentially to over 80 million views on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok, and countless other platforms. But the raw numbers told only the smallest part of the real story unfolding across the global body of Christ. The genuine impact was happening in millions of individual hearts around the world.

people who saw themselves reflected in Pastor John HGY’s struggle, who recognized their own performance-based faith traditions, who had been hiding doubts and questions behind carefully maintained masks of religious certainty. Churches across America and internationally reported unprecedented attendance increases as pastors felt permission to preach inspired messages about vulnerability.

many publicly sharing their own struggles for the first time in their ministries. The comment sections across all platforms became spontaneous digital testimony services. I’ve been a pastor for 27 years and I’ve been slowly dying inside. One comment read that received over 50,000 likes. Watching Pastor Hegy tonight gave me permission to finally ask for help and admit I don’t have everything figured out.

Another widely shared comment stated, “I walked away from church 5 years ago because I thought faith meant having all the answers and never struggling. This showed me that honest questions and vulnerability are actually part of authentic faith journey.

” Similar testimonies poured in from every inhabited continent, united by people encountering God’s grace through watching two men demonstrate authentic vulnerability and supernatural reconciliation. 3 days after the conference, Pastor Hegy made an announcement that shocked everyone, he was taking a one-mon sbatical, the first significant break he had taken in over 30 years of continuous ministry.

I need to spend extended time with God, genuinely reconnecting with why I started this journey decades ago, he explained to his congregation. and I need to spend quality time with my son Matthew. Actively working to rebuild a relationship that my pride and ministry demands allowed to deteriorate over years. The congregation supported his decision unanimously.

Many people expressing that his willingness to step back from ministry responsibilities demonstrated more genuine spiritual leadership than decades of uninterrupted preaching ever could. During that month-long sbatical, Hegy spent his mornings in extended prayer. Not the rushed, agendriven prayers he’d grown accustomed to, but hours of simply sitting in God’s presence, relearning how to hear his voice without immediately planning how to use what he heard for sermon content.

But the most significant and personally meaningful development was what began happening with Matthew. On the third day of his sbatical, John drove to his son’s apartment on the other side of San Antonio unannounced. When Matthew opened the door and saw his father standing there with obvious tears in his eyes, asking simply, “Can we talk, please?” The walls that had been carefully constructed over years began immediately crumbling.

They spent six consecutive hours talking, crying, confessing, forgiving, listening without defending. Matthew shared how he had felt suffocated by the pressure to be perfect, to have everything figured out spiritually, to be the model pastor’s son. John listened without interrupting, without defending his choices, without making excuses.

And in that space of humble reception rather than defensive explanation, genuine healing began flowing between father and son. Dad, Matthew finally said, his voice breaking with emotion. I watched that video of you and Jonathan Roomie probably 20 times already.

And for the first time in my adult life, I saw you as a real person rather than as Pastor Hegy, the perfect minister. I saw you struggle, admit you don’t have all the answers, show genuine vulnerability, and it made me want to actually know you to connect with the real you underneath the pastoral persona. Father and son embraced, both weeping freely, experiencing restoration that comes only when pride is completely surrendered and walls are demolished.

Over the following weeks of the sabbatical, they watched the chosen together, discussing each episode in depth, Matthew started asking theological questions again, genuinely engaging with scripture. But now, John responded completely differently than he had for decades. Instead of immediately providing authoritative answers drawn from his theological training, he sometimes admitted honestly.

I don’t know the answer to that question. Son, what do you think based on what we’ve read? The dynamic shifted dramatically from authority figure dispensing information to two genuine seekers journeying together toward truth. And Matthew’s faith began reawakening in ways that years of conventional sermons had never accomplished.

When Pastor Haggi returned to Cornerstone Church after his month-long sbatical, he was unmistakably a different man. His preaching style had fundamentally changed, carrying less dogmatic certainty and more authentic wonder, less declaration and more invitation to join the journey. He began his first sermon back by saying vulnerably, “For decades, I’ve stood in this pulpit pretending to have all the answers, presenting Christianity as a system of certainties I’d mastered.

Starting today, I’m going to stand here as someone who’s learning alongside you, who desperately needs Jesus every single day, who has more questions now than I did 40 years ago.” The response was overwhelming and sustained. Attendance actually increased significantly rather than declining as some had feared as people alienated by religious certainty and performance standards found a spiritual home where honest faith was celebrated and questions were welcomed rather than condemned.

The church became known regionally and then nationally for creating safe space where doubts could be expressed, where transformation was valued over maintaining appearances, where people could bring their broken, messy lives without fear of judgment. Jonathan Roomie and John Haggy’s friendship deepened substantially over the following months.

They spoke weekly by phone, praying for each other, encouraging each other, sharing struggles honestly. 3 months after their initial encounter, Jonathan visited Cornerstone again, and this time the atmosphere was pure celebration rather than confrontation. They sat together on stage for an extended conversation that was broadcast to millions of viewers. Pastor Hag Jonathan said warmly, the courage you demonstrated that night, the public vulnerability, the willingness to humble yourself before thousands of people and millions watching remotely, that’s had more measurable impact on people’s faith than any sermon or television show ever

could. Hegy smiled, his eyes glistening with grateful tears. And you, brother, showed me through your gracious response what it actually looks like to respond to hostility with genuine grace and love. You lived out the sermon on the mount right in front of me, and it broke me open in the best possible way.

6 months after their initial meeting, both men accepted invitations to speak together at a major Christian leadership conference attended by thousands of pastors and ministry leaders. They shared their story with complete transparency and delivered a simple but revolutionary message. God’s kingdom is infinitely big enough for all of us. Success in ministry isn’t about competition for limited resources, but about collaboration in unlimited harvest. And the greatest kingdom impact happens when we’re genuinely vulnerable about our struggles rather than

projecting impossible perfection. One year after their dramatic encounter at the prophecy conference, John Haggy and Jonathan Roomie co-authored a book titled The Posture of Grace: Finding Strength in Vulnerability. The book became an instant bestseller across Christian retail.

And they jointly announced that 100% of the proceeds would be donated to fund mental health resources specifically for pastors and ministry leaders who were struggling in isolation. But perhaps the most meaningful impact was the one that couldn’t be accurately measured or quantified. Around the world, in countless individual hearts, people carrying the crushing weight of appearing spiritually perfect began laying down that burden.

They started having honest conversations with God about their doubts, their questions, their failures, their fears. They stopped performing faith for others and started living it authentically. They discovered that God’s grace really is sufficient. That his strength genuinely is made perfect in weakness.

And that the Christian life is fundamentally about walking in humble daily dependence on a God who loves us exactly as we are rather than as we pretend to be. As the sun set on that first anniversary of their encounter, John Haggy sat in his comfortable study at home. Matthew beside him on the couch, both watching the chosen together as had become their weekly tradition.

Diana brought them coffee, quietly marveling at the transformation that had restored not just Jon’s ministry, but their marriage, their family relationships, and his fundamental joy in life. Heggy’s phone buzzed with an incoming text from Jonathan. Praying for you today. brother.

So grateful for how God used what could have been just an awkward confrontation to create a genuine friendship that’s blessed both of us. Love you. John smiled warmly and typed back immediately. Love you too, brother. Thank you for having the courage to share what God gave you even when it would have been easier to stay silent. You quite literally saved my spiritual life that night.

He turned his attention back to the television screen where Jesus was teaching his disciples about humility, about servantthood, about God’s upside down kingdom, where the last are first and the greatest are those who serve rather than those who dominate. and John HGY who had spent 43 years of ministry trying to be the greatest through knowledge and authority and influence finally understood at a deep level what it truly meant to be the servant. But this isn’t where the story ends.

Because what happened next would prove even more controversial than the initial confrontation, generating debates and discussions that would divide Christian communities for months to come. Because 6 months after that anniversary, another prominent Christian leader invited both men to a major event. And what transpired there would force the entire body of Christ to grapple with questions about celebrity culture in Christianity, about the commercialization of faith, and about whether popularity and kingdom impact are the same thing. Joel Ostein, a pastor of Lakewood Church in Houston

and perhaps America’s most recognizable Christian voice with his perpetually positive messages and massive platform had invited both John Hegy and Jonathan Roomie to participate in a special service focused on media ministry and cultural engagement.

The event was heavily promoted and over 40,000 people packed Lakewood’s arena style sanctuary with millions more watching via broadcast and live stream. The evening began smoothly with Austinine delivering his characteristic message about God’s favor and abundant blessing. His smile never wavering, his tone relentlessly positive.

Then he invited Hegy to the stage, introducing him as a man who’s learned that vulnerability is strength and praising his transformation publicly. Hegy shared briefly about his journey, earning applause and affirmation. Then Jonathan Roomie joined them on stage and Ostein began asking questions about The Chosen, about Hollywood, about bringing faith to mainstream culture.

The conversation seemed pleasant and encouraging until Ostein asked a question that would spark massive controversy. Jonathan, your show has generated incredible revenue through streaming and merchandise. The Chosen has become a genuine business success story. How do you reconcile making significant money from portraying Jesus with the call to sacrificial disciplehip? The question hung in the air and Jonathan’s face showed his discomfort with the framing.

Well, Joel, I think that’s a complex question that requires some nuance. He began carefully. But before he could continue, Ostein pressed forward with his characteristically enthusiastic tone. Because I believe God wants to bless us financially. There’s nothing wrong with prosperity when you’re doing kingdom work. Right. Ostein’s smile broadened. Your success, Jonathan, and the financial success of the chosen, that’s God’s favor.

What happened next would be replayed millions of times across social media, analyzed and debated endlessly. John Haggy, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly stood and walked to the microphone, gently but firmly interrupting. Joel, can I say something here? With respect, Hegy’s tone was measured but serious.

His expression showing concern rather than his earlier aggressive hostility from months before. Ostein clearly surprised by the interruption. Nodded slowly. Of course, John, this is your night, too. I’ve been sitting here listening. He began choosing his words carefully. And I feel like we’re having the wrong conversation. The question isn’t whether God can bless people financially who serve him.

The question is whether we’ve made financial success and massive platforms the measure of spiritual authenticity and kingdom impact. The atmosphere in the arena shifted palpably. 40,000 people sensed something significant was happening beyond the plan program. I say this with love, Joel. Because you’ve been gracious to invite us here, Hegy continued.

But I think the American church, and I’ve been complicit in this for decades, has confused success with faithfulness. We’ve made celebrity pastors and Christian influencers into something Jesus never intended. Ostein’s smile had become slightly fixed. his body language subtly defensive. Well, John, I think you’re being a bit harsh.

God calls us to reach people, and you need a platform to do that effectively. But at what cost? Hegy interrupted again, his voice rising slightly. Jonathan here learned the hard way that success can be spiritually dangerous. that performing Jesus for cameras while losing connection with the real Jesus is possible.

I learned that having all the answers and a massive platform doesn’t mean you’re actually walking with God. And I wonder if we’re all trapped in a system that values numbers and metrics over genuine transformation. The camera operators didn’t know where to focus as tension mounted. Jonathan stood between the two older pastors. His expression conflicted. Pastor Haggi, Jonathan said carefully.

I appreciate what you’re saying. But I also think we need to be careful about judging motives or measuring someone else’s faithfulness. I’m not judging motives, Hegy replied, turning toward Jonathan. I’m questioning the system we’ve all bought into. A system where Christian celebrities have more influence than local pastors. where streaming numbers matter more than disciplehip.

Where merchandise sales and book deals define success. Ostein had stopped smiling entirely now. John, I think you’re taking this in an unfair direction. I’ve reached millions of people with hope and encouragement. My books have helped countless individuals. Are you saying that’s wrong? I’m saying I don’t know anymore.

Hegy admitted, his voice carrying the same vulnerability he’d learned months earlier. I’m saying that after my breakdown, after God humbled me publicly, I’ve started questioning everything about celebrity Christian culture. And I think we need to have this conversation even though it’s uncomfortable. What followed was 45 minutes of the most uncomfortable, unscripted, controversial conversation in modern Christian broadcasting.

The three men along with several other Christian leaders who joined them on stage debated questions that most preferred to avoid. Is the prosperity gospel actually good news? Does massive platform equal kingdom effectiveness? Has American Christianity become more about entertainment than disciplehip? Is there a difference between influence and celebrity? The Christian internet erupted into tribal warfare within hours.

Some praised Hegy for his courage to confront celebrity culture even while standing in Lakewood Church, America’s largest congregation. Others accused him of bitter jealousy, of attacking successful ministries out of his own insecurity. Jonathan Roomie found himself caught in the middle with some defending the chosen as pure ministry while others questioned whether a commercialized television show about Jesus represented the problem Hegy was identifying.

Joel Ostein maintained his composure throughout, occasionally defending his approach, but mostly listening with visible discomfort. When the conversation finally wound down without any clear resolution, the three men prayed together. But the prayer felt forced rather than anointed. The aftermath was predictable chaos. Think pieces proliferated across Christian media, analyzing every angle.

Some churches stopped promoting The Chosen, viewing it as compromised by commercial success. Others doubled down on supporting it, seeing attacks on the show as attacks on creativity in ministry. Prosperity gospel advocates defended Ostein vigorously.

While critics felt validated, social justiceoriented Christians appreciated questions about systems but questioned the platform and timing. Jonathan Roomie released a carefully worded statement days later. I’m grateful for conversations that challenge us all to examine our motives and methods. The Chosen has never been about building my platform or generating wealth. Yes, there’s a business structure because television production requires resources, but our aim has always been introducing people to Jesus and that hasn’t changed.

I respect both Pastor Hegy and Pastor Austin deeply, even where we might differ on approaches. John Hegy doubled down on his concerns in his next sermon at Cornerstone. I’m not condemning anyone’s ministry, but I am saying we need honest examination of whether we’ve built a Christian celebrity culture that Jesus would recognize.

My own complicity in this system doesn’t exempt me from asking these questions. In fact, my years of building platform makes me more responsible to ask them. The controversy raged for months. with no clear winner or loser, just a fractured conversation about difficult questions that deserved better examination than tribal warfare provided.

But something significant had shifted. Thousands of pastors began privately questioning their own motivations, their pursuit of platform, their definitions of success. Thousands of Christians began reconsidering what metrics actually mattered in evaluating ministry effectiveness. And through it all, John Hegy and Jonathan Roomie maintained their friendship.

Even when they didn’t fully agree on every point, modeling that you can wrestle with difficult questions without demonizing those who land in different places. They continued meeting monthly, praying together, being honest about their struggles with fame, platform, and the constant tension between influence and faithfulness.

5 years after their initial encounter, John Hegy would reflect during an interview, “That night, when I called Jonathan a fool, was God’s intervention to save me from spiritual death. The controversial conversation at Lakewood was different, but also necessary. Even though it was messy and uncomfortable, we need more honest wrestling with hard questions and less tribal warfare.

Jonathan Roomie would add in the same interview, “I’ve learned that following Jesus means living in tension. Tension between reaching people and remaining pure. Tension between using tools of culture and being captured by culture. Tension between accepting blessing and pursuing prosperity.

The answer isn’t simplistic on either side. The answer is staying connected to Jesus daily and letting him lead, even when that means uncomfortable questions. And perhaps that’s the real ending to this story that’s still being written. Not neat resolution, but ongoing tension. Not easy answers, but faithful wrestling.

Not performance, but authentic relationship with a God who meets us in our brokenness. our questions, our failures, our controversies, and our attempts to follow him faithfully in a complicated world where celebrity and faithfulness, success, and integrity, influence, and humility don’t always align neatly.

Have you ever found yourself trapped in the performance of faith, terrified to admit your struggles because you thought weakness would disqualify you from God’s grace? Perhaps like John Haggy, you’ve been carrying the crushing weight of appearing spiritually perfect while privately feeling empty and lost. Or maybe like Jonathan Roomie, you face dismissal and judgment for how God has chosen to work uniquely in your life.

The same grace that transformed a confrontation into friendship. The same power that broke through decades of pride in a single evening. The same love that restored a father and son’s relationship is available right now in this moment to anyone willing to receive it. God isn’t looking for your perfection, your certainty, your performance.

He’s looking for your honest brokenness, your genuine vulnerability, your willingness to admit you desperately need him every moment of every day. Share your own story of learning to embrace authentic faith over religious performance in the comments. And remember, the posture that changes everything isn’t standing tall with all the answers clutched tightly.

It’s kneeling humbly, admitting you need help, and discovering that God’s grace has been waiting patiently to meet you exactly there all along.