I had the privilege to preach in an all black church. They are great churches, wonderful people. But here's a Sunday morning and I walked in this church. There were several thousand people there. But I'm looking around and I noticed I am the only person I can see here not of color. My guest said, "Sit right down over here on the front row." So I sat down. The people were warm, they were friendly. Finally, a dear black lady came walking in, precious lady. She walked over and she sat down on the front row, just a seat or two away from me. And I said to her, "How you doing?" She said, "I'm doing great." She said, "How are you?" I said, "I'm great." Then she said something that startled me. No one had ever said this to me before. She said, "What are you doing here, white boy?" Now, never in my life had anybody called me white boy. I said, "Well, white boy is going to preach this morning." She said, "No kidding." Then she looked at me and she said, "You got the stuff, white boy?" I said, "I beg your pardon." She said, "Don't play stupid, white boy. You know exactly what I mean. The preachers either got the stuff or they don't have the stuff. If the preacher don't have the stuff, we don't have church. You got the stuff, yes or no, white boy? Which is it?" I said, "White boy's got the stuff." I didn't know what to say, okay? I mean, I'm sort of caught. She said, "First thing we're going to do is we're going to sing for about an hour and a half." I said, "An hour and a half?" "Oh," she said, "it gets the devil so mad." She said, "You love to sing, don't you, white boy?" I said, "I'm loving it more by the minute, yeah, ma'am." She said, "Then after that, we have testimonies." And she said, "Then you get to preach." And she said, "White boy, we didn't come here to get out. We come here to have church." She said, "Now, I need you to do me a favor." I said, "What's the favor?" She said, "I need you to move over." I said, "Move over?" She said, "Yeah." Now, there's that much space between us. I said, "Somebody else coming?" She said, "No." I said, "Can I ask why you want me to move over?" She said, "Sure." She said, "When I get singing, I need my room." Good thing I moved over. That lady started singing and tears just poured down her cheeks. Finally, the pastor called me up. I said, "Preacher, I'm going to tell you something about her. I want her spirit when we sing." He said, "Brother Gibbs, did she share her testimony?" I said, "No." She said, "Brother Gibbs, she has two teenage boys and a husband who a year ago they went down to catch a bus, her husband to work and the boys to school at 5:30 in the morning and a car pulled up full of thugs at 5:30 a.m. and shotguns came out and they her family for no reason. We don't know who did it, we haven't been able to find their heads yet. When we had the funeral for those kids and her husband, she said, "You got to help me sing. I got to have that." I thought to myself, "Lord, forgive me for walking into church upset over what I can't even remember what and sing half-hearted if hardly at all." Now, the whole reason I told you this story is for this. After 10 minutes, I said, "Lord, I want that. Would anybody want the spirit you sing with? Would they even notice the spirit you sing with?" The Bible says, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might."