At exactly 7:00 p.m., Ryan Stevenson stepped onto the stage, kicking off the night as the first opener. The venue was already buzzing—seats filling fast, conversations turning into excited murmurs. By the time he strummed his first note, the crowd was about 80% full, and the response was warm. Stevenson performed three songs, each holding raw emotion. His voice carried through the theater,, smooth and unforced, washing over the audience as they swayed, clapped, and softly sang along. It wasn’t a high-energy set, but it didn’t need to be—he set the tone with a sense of ease, a gentle beginning to a night that would only build from here. Although I hadn’t listened to Rylan before, I definitely will in the future.
If Stevenson was soft and reflective, Crowder was pure and electrifying. The second his band struck the first chord, the entire venue stood up. The atmosphere turned electric with anticipation. Blue and white lights flooded the stage, creating an almost ethereal glow, but there was nothing delicate about Crowder’s performance. His music filled the room, deep and resounding, backed by a band that knew exactly how to command a stage. The backup singers added a richness to the sound, harmonies weaving effortlessly through each song, making the entire set feel layered, full, and larger than life.
Unlike Stevenson’s brief performance, Crowder delivered a solid seven-song set, giving the audience time to truly lose themselves in the music. By the time he wrapped up, the venue was packed to capacity, and the energy in the air was palpable.
Terrian was the night’s third opener, and my personal favorite. From the moment she stepped into the spotlight, her voice became the centerpiece of the room.
She wove between upbeat, dance-worthy songs and slower, deeply emotional moments, keeping the crowd engaged with every shift. The lighting played its part—bright enough to invite movement, yet dim enough to create a sense of closeness. One of the highlights of her set was “Honestly, We Just Need Jesus,” a song that resonated deeply with the audience, pulling them in with its honesty and emotion. Terrian brought everyone in the room into a moment of reflection. It was a different kind of energy—less explosive, but no less powerful.
Cain was the final opener, and they made sure the audience wouldn’t forget them anytime soon. From the moment they walked on stage, dressed in dazzling, glittering outfits that shimmered under the lights, they exuded energy. But it wasn’t just their visual presence that stood out—it was their sincerity.
Midway through their set, they paused. Instead of moving straight into another song, they took a moment to pray. Not as a formality, not as a transition, but as a call to anyone in the audience carrying burdens. They spoke with deep emotion. They invited those struggling to surrender their worries to God, and the moment hung heavy in the air. It wasn’t just a performance, it was personal.
The set itself was stunning, with golden accents and flower arrangements decorating the stage, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and grand. Their harmonies were flawless, their voices blending together in a way that felt effortless. Out of all the openers, it was clear Cain’s set had the biggest emotional impact—something about it felt deeply human, deeply real.
Before TobyMac took the stage, the audience was met with an unexpected but powerful intermission. A man stepped forward, sharing a heartfelt story about his adopted children—their struggles, their pain, and ultimately, their resilience. He spoke with an honesty that gripped the room, leading into a video that showed the reality of children without stable homes. It wasn’t just a story—it was a challenge. A moment to step outside the excitement of the night and reflect on something bigger.
As the video faded, he extended an invitation: a chance to sponsor children in need. And in that moment, the theater wasn’t just a venue anymore—it was a space filled with people contemplating the kind of impact they could make beyond these walls.
A few minutes after 9:00 p.m., the entire theater was waiting with anticipation. Then, the lights dimmed. And finally, TobyMac stepped onto the stage. Everyone in the venue exploded with excitement. Every single person was on their feet, hands in the air, singing, shouting, and completely immersed. The stage lit up with bursts of color. Reds, blues, yellows, flashing in sync with the beat as the lyrics lit up the screen behind him.
He kicked off his set at the edge of the stage, launching straight into “Lights Shine Bright.” It was the perfect opener. Vibrant, dynamic, impossible not to move to. Down the aisles, people danced, completely lost in the moment. The entire room pulsed with energy, unified in something bigger than just music.
For over an hour, TobyMac held complete command of the stage, never letting the energy dip for a second. Each song flowed into the next, blending moments of high energy praise with deeply personal, faith driven lyrics. It was a show of pure passion, a performance that felt both polished and deeply personal.
Beyond the music, beyond the talent, beyond the sheer energy of the night, what stood out most was the atmosphere. The production was flawless, from the strobe lights that danced across the stage to the impeccable sound quality that carried every lyric to the farthest corners of the theater. But what made the night unforgettable wasn’t the lighting or the stage effects. It was the feeling of a collective experience of faith, music, and community. It was a celebration. A reminder. A night where thousands of people, strangers before they walked through those doors, were united in something.
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