In some ways, I liken the Holy Spirit to King David. Have you ever noticed how tender David was? How compassionate and sensitive he was? When Absalom died, he wept even though he was the one who instructed the army to end Absalom’s rebellion (see 2 Samuel 19). On multiple occasions we find David weeping and writing songs. His relationship with Jonathan is one of the best accounts in all of Scripture of an intimate, close friendship. But never forget that David was a warrior, one who defeated a giant and killed thousands of men. He was the leader of the Mighty Men—quite possibly the greatest group of fighters in the history of Israel (see 2 Samuel 23). In one instance, David even planned to kill a man who refused to give water and food to his followers (see 1 Samuel 25). David was not a wimp; he was a warrior. Yet he was one who was tender and sensitive.

Let me remind you that the Holy Spirit is also called the Spirit of might (see Isaiah 11:2). He is all-powerful, and in no way is He weak or impotent. Yet at the same time, He’s kindhearted and feels things deeply. He can be made sorrowful by our words or actions. What an amazing God!

Don’t be alarmed if you are having a hard time grasping the full nature of His personality. We must always remember that His personality cannot be confined to our human understanding. However, He has promised to reveal Himself to us if we draw near to Him. What an invitation!

As I’ve mentioned before, there is no way I can fully describe the mystery and glory of the Holy Spirit (see 1 Corinthians 2:6-16). My aim is to simply introduce you to Him so you can begin to discover His greatness and enjoy His presence in your life.

Be Careful Not to Grieve Him

Recently I refrained from watching any television for a period of time. My communion with God was powerful as I immersed myself in prayer and the Word. During this time I walked into our living room where my boys were watching a movie. It wasn’t a bad movie, but I walked in during a scene in which a man was killed. I immediately left the room. Because I had grown so sensitive to the Spirit during our times of communion, I could feel His sorrow at the images on the screen.

We must never forget that the Spirit has taken up permanent residence in us. When you walk into a movie, you are taking Him—the God of the universe who is holy and infinite in might—with you. He’s always with you because He promised to never leave nor forsake you. But you will find that when you drag Him into situations that grieve Him, He will suddenly become quiet.

What should our response be when we have caused the Spirit sorrow? We should immediately ask for forgiveness, but it must be a deep, sincere apology. When I’ve grieved my wife, a quick “let’s get it right” apology never works. Lisa can see right through it. She knows I just want to go on with life rather than sincerely address the issues that caused the breach in our fellowship. Lisa’s desire is not to condemn me but to make sure there is nothing disingenuous or artificial about our fellowship. In the same way, the Spirit of God is jealous over us; He doesn’t want superficial fellowship, but genuine intimacy.