The Atmosphere of Heaven

Earlier today, I stumbled upon a youth baseball game, and something about it immediately caught my attention. The players were incredibly young—tiny in size, barely strong enough to swing a bat properly or run the bases with any real speed. And yet, what fascinated me most wasn’t the children, but the way the adults—coaches, parents, and spectators—were fully immersed in the moment. They shouted encouragement, gave instructions with intensity, and celebrated small victories like they were watching a major league game.

It struck me: these kids aren’t capable yet of playing the game at a professional level. Many probably don’t even grasp the deeper strategies of the sport. Still, the adults had crafted an atmosphere where the children believed they were already part of something bigger. Through the energy and belief of the adults, the kids stepped into a mindset that mirrored professional athletes. They were playing as if the dream was already reality—living in a frequency set by those who had gone before them.

What stood out even more was that the adults didn’t lower the bar just because the children were young. The coaches didn’t simply “go easy” on them. Instead, they pushed them—giving real instruction, correcting their form, demanding focus, and encouraging discipline. There was grace, yes—but also expectation. They didn’t treat the kids according to where they were, but according to where they were going. They spoke to the seed of greatness within them, preparing them for something far beyond their current maturity.

The parents and coaches looked past the weaknesses of their children’s current form—their awkward stances, their wild throws, their incomplete understanding of the game—and instead, they saw what these kids had the potential to become. They envisioned the future athlete hidden within the present immaturity. And by responding to the child according to who they could be, they pulled that potential closer to the surface. Their belief created a bridge between the present and the future.

This reminded me of an experience I had just the other night at a revival conference. Before the main service began, a small group of spiritual leaders—maybe ten of us—gathered in a back room to pray. It wasn’t a performance, and it wasn’t for show. It was a group of people preparing the atmosphere for what was about to happen. And as we began to pray, something miraculous happened.

We tapped into the reality of Heaven. Declaring freedom and victory in Jesus’ name, we shouted, praised, danced, sang, and groaned in the Spirit—as if the people who were about to walk through the doors had already received their healing, salvation, freedom, and restoration. The small room we were in began to vibrate in my spirit. It felt too small to contain the power that was stirred up through praise and intercession. It was electric—like Heaven had entered the room.

Those leaders were doing the same thing the coaches at that baseball game were doing: setting the atmosphere. Modeling the Kingdom. Creating a spiritual frequency that others could step into and live within. And when the main service started, it was undeniable—Heaven had already arrived before the crowd even took their seats.

This is what we’re called to as believers. Just as the adults at that baseball game created a mindset that mirrored professional gameplay, and just as the leaders in that revival room created an atmosphere that mirrored Heaven, so we—who walk with Christ—must create the conditions of the Kingdom here on earth. We don’t wait for people to “get it right” before we believe in them. We see through the lens of faith. We speak to their future. We create the culture of Heaven now—so that when others step into our presence, they encounter His presence.

The Kingdom of God is not some far-off ideal. It begins in us. We bring Heaven to earth now, setting a spiritual frequency through how we live, worship, pray, and love—an atmosphere where others can step into the reality of God’s presence and believe they, too, are part of something far greater than what they can presently see.