For the Revivalists.

For the Revivalists. For the hungry. For the Christ-chasers. For the ministers. For the hurting. For the overwhelmed:

God has addressed many things in me in the last several months. Compromise and competitive thoughts. He has abolished the unforgiveness in my heart and the offenses I allowed to creep in. He taught me to take a slap across the face and turn the other cheek. He taught me how to consider it joy when my goods were plundered. 

He has stood patiently with open hands as I emptied my pockets and placed my children, one by one, into His care. And really, let Him have them. He has laid a comfort on me as I cried on the altar and laid my husband down for God to fully have, as I vowed to get out of the way and stop carrying the job as his convictor and teacher. And then He poured a joy out onto my marriage that I had not previously known.

He has taught lessons until I stopped crunching numbers and chasing dollars and started trusting Him to deal with my finances with the math of the Kingdom and the provision of heaven. He has shown out in my life, and poured in so much that even the overflow has been an incredible testimony. 

I have stood still, even clenching, as He bound His peace to me. With straps and buckles comprised of the Word He’s laid that peace on my working arms and my running legs and my ever-wandering heart. And at some point I stopped clenching and leaned into His dressing me. 

Oh, He gave me garments I never dreamed of. He called me His tool, His light, His salt. He called me His and then He waited patiently for me to believe Him. 

He trained my words. He replaced them with His words. He told me “Don’t call yourself sick. BY my stripes you are healed.” He told me, “Don’t call yourself poor. You are made in the image of a God that does not want. I meet your needs.” He said, “Don’t call yourself voiceless. I will give you the words in the hour which you need them.” 

And He has. 

But the fear. It stayed. It stayed because when it knocked, I invited it in. To sit and chat a bit.
Until. 

Until I realized that fear kills revival as quick as the other killers. It stands in the corner with its friends; Compromise, Unforgiveness, Offense, Rebellion, Competition. That nasty gang of devilish liars. Those Revival-killers. 

Kick them out of your life. 

Don’t you know we need it? Don’t you see our world has caught fire with terrorism, hate, sin, apostasy. Our world is in pain. It is dying, a slow and painful death. Our world is screaming, crying, writhing for a Revival Rain to wash it clean. For a Bride to call our for her Groom to come. For a remnant to rise up and appeal to heaven on behalf of the powerless. 

What will the church do? What will you do, Church?

The answer is surely not to wage war against the broken world but instead to open our eyes and wage war against the Revival-Killers we have housed in our hearts! 

I have booted the others out one by one while I made the bed for Fear and fed him a meal made of my words and my heart and my conviction and the measure of Revival God had placed in me! 

I was born for such a time as this. I was equipped with words and heart and conviction and a measure of Revival that I WILL bring to the altar. I will no longer allow it to be fodder for the enemy. 

What of your heart? Confess it. Shine light on it. 

You have a measure of Revival, God made it yours from the foundations of the earth. You have a weight of something precious that will die with you if you feed it to the Revival-killers. 

But if you let the light flood it, kick the killers out and consecrate your God-loving heart, you can lay your measure down. Bring it to the altar with me. Let’s lay them down together. 

Let’s start a movement and watch the Revival grow. Let’s watch it change us, then change the body, then bring a flood onto the burning world. 

Are you with me?