In the 1970s, God swept across California with an outpouring of the Holy Spirit like had not been seen for years. Many of the older generation who had experienced the revivals of the 40s and 50s rejoiced to see the Spirit of God moving again. Their pulpits had grown cold over the years, their altars had been abandoned, and the Church world had settled into the same religious environment that they themselves had revolted from in their generation. The excitement was gone, and church had gone back to its normal sedate self.

But here, finally, was a brand new move of God.  It didn’t come the way they expected, nor to whom they expected – God came to the Hippies, the disaffected youth who were searching for Truth in any way they could find it. But the fire of God was undeniably burning, souls were getting saved again and God was on the move.

I got saved during those early days of the Jesus Movement.  We were so full of the Spirit that nothing else mattered to us. Every night, the lost would pack the church to hear a message of the power of God unto Salvation. The Holy Spirit would descend in such an overwhelming presence that there were times that the air literally shimmered from the glory of God. Lives were immeasurably changed as souls flocked to the altar to give their lives to Jesus Christ.

Night after night, week after week, year after year, we immersed ourselves in the flow of the Holy Ghost. We fully expected that the Lord’s return was surely imminent and we would ride this great wave of revival until He came to catch us up into Heaven for Eternity.

But as things always go, the revival dissipated after about 10 years, even sooner in other places, and we were left wondering what happened. People went back to their different paths of Life, pursued forgotten careers, raised families, and settled once again for a normal, sedate Christian life.

Many of us, however, never let go of the dream that had been kindled in our hearts during those heady days of revival. We never forgot what it was like to feel that power flowing through us during services, and we never let go of the great calling that we knew had been placed on our lives.

Winding the clock ahead 30 years, I’ve watched the Church in America slide into an plastic rendition of what we once had, trying to imitate the excitement of those days with upbeat modern music, Hollywood-like presentations on stage, and “feel good” messages designed to comfort rather than convict.

I now know how those old-timers felt as they watched the holiness and glory drain out of the movement that had been ignited by the old Brush Arbor revivals. I can now understand how they must have cried out to God on worn-out knees to send another outpouring of His Holy Spirit. The glory had departed and they were left with only a slim ray of hope that it would return.

For years, I had been preaching a message of revival on radio and in newspaper columns, but in 2004, I felt the Lord lift the burden and begin to turn my attention overseas. Even though I had little to show for all those years of preaching, it was hard to abandon what I had been doing for so long. I felt as if I had been dropped off in a desert with no direction. But all the while that I was wondering if I had simply been dismissed, God was making other plans.  He sent me to Africa.

I am not an accomplished evangelist, a learned theological scholar, nor a well-trained missionary. In fact, when I first headed to Africa, I had no idea what I was doing. I had no plans, no organization supporting me, and no expectations. I just showed up, believing that the God who had sent me would also show up.

What the Kenya Diaries relates is the beginning of an incredible journey. What started as a step of blind faith has led to a resurgence of hope in the power of God. The excitement that I have felt must have been just like what those old-timers experienced back in 1970 when they saw the Jesus Movement rise up. God had turned to a new people that the established Church had never expected, so that He could bring life in the Gospel back to the Church.  He is doing the same today. America brought the Gospel to Africa, but I believe that Africa will be bringing it back to America.

As you read the Kenya Diaries, I hope you get a sense of the same excitement that I had as I followed the leading of the Spirit in a journey that led into a growing move of God. I have no doubt that this new move of God will result in a blaze of revival that will be so hot that it will be felt around the world.

The Kenya Diaries is the start of that journey.


No Small Stir

“And the same time there arose no small stir about that way.”  (Acts 19:23)

We read in Colossians that the Laodiceans were to read Paul’s epistle to the Colossians.  What an event for them to get a letter from Paul!  You can almost feel the anticipation in the air.  This was a church under persecution with an enormous job before them. The whole known world was lying in pagan idolatry and on their way to Hell, but the Christians knew they had the Truth and they were excited!.

The name of Jesus was viewed as some new god that had come out of Judea which, in itself would not have created much of a stir, but Jesus’ followers wouldn’t let well enough alone.  They had to keep pressing their doctrine of salvation, repentance from dead works, adherence to the commandments of God (which most flesh does not enjoy), and this constant reproof that anybody who didn’t go along with their ideas was going to a place of torment for eternity.

Now the idea of Hades was not new.  Different shades of the concept had filtered down through the ages ever since Noah, but most often it was mollified by some simple deeds you could do in the temple.  You could light some candles, burn some incense, and mutter some repetitious chants over a string of beads.  And in case that didn’t work, there would always be a priest there who could intercede for you to the gods.  Especially to some mother figure like Astarte, who would have compassion because she was a mother and would go talk to God for you. (Wasn’t that nice of her?)  Then of course, there were always the statues of various gods which all had their own fields of specialty which you could pray to – travel, war, family, love, etc. As long as you showed up at the Temple, you were OK.  Does this sound familiar?

Why did the Christians have to be so pushy?  Just because everybody didn’t believe the same way, did that mean everybody was going to hell?  After all, they believed in god.  As long as you didn’t harm anyone, what was so bad about that?  Why couldn’t the Christians just leave everybody alone?

Persecution was rampant against that early church.  It would have been so easy for them to

adopt a policy of laissez-faire and be satisfied with just going to church, but there was a great commission hanging over them.  They had to win the world for Christ, and so they plunged into the challenge. They knew, without a doubt, that they had the Truth, and that if they didn’t evangelize the world, multitudes of people would be lost forever. God’s people have always grown under persecution, and languished in times of peace and prosperity.

Is it so different now?  Human nature has not changed.  The fashions may change, but the basic nature of man will always exhibit itself in the same ways.  There will always be those who are comfortable with a laissez-faire form of religion that makes allowances for the flesh, and would rather not be bothered with something that calls them to a deeper walk in God.  But then there are always those for whom this world is not worthy; those who need nourishment from the Throne of God; those who hunger for more than what can be seen with their eyes.  They feed off of Truth and the life-flowing Spirit of God.  Nothing else will do.  The great commission hangs over them.

There is a whole world out there that is lost and dying, and it’s up to us to tell them before it’s too late. No wonder there was no small stir!

[I 2002, the Lord showed me a vision in which I saw other Christians waving their arms and crying out to the modern, “blessings and prosperity” Church, trying to warn them of the cliff that they were heading for. They were stampeding toward their own destruction, but refused to hear the warnings that I and those others were shouting at them.

Someone sent me this article and it echoed everything that I saw in that vision and have been saying for over 20 years. I thought it was something I should share with everyone as another voice crying out the same warning.]

An Apology to the Nations – extracts from Bryan Hupperts

As a heartsick American believer, I am writing to apologize to the nations for the false gospel of greed we have poisoned you with. Please, weigh what you hear from American Christian media in the light of the Bible. In that light, we are found weighed, and wanting.

Our pricy prophets deliver pleasing words and playful images from their own imaginations. A global prophetic alert recently went out with images of dancers doing the Cancan because, so said the prophet, “God says you Can-Can!”  Huh? All things prophetic have been turned into a profitable cash business. They promise money, money, money; prosperity abounding!, but ignore the required self-denial of the Cross. God says, in Jeremiah 23:29, “Is not my word like fire?” declares the LORD, “and like a hammer which shatters a rock?”  Does a word that tickles the ear also shatter rock? Can these soothing words really be the words of God?

We are exporting wholesale spiritual manifestations like the primitive Mormons used to experience: visions of pillars of light, orbs of light, strange spiritual manifestations and experiences not rooted or found the Bible, and many beguiled saints are drifting away from the sure word of Scripture as did the apostate Joseph Smith. Now we have Holy Ghost feathers and glittering gold and jewels appearing from the ether…

The Great Whore of Revelation 17 is clad in colors other than white and is glittering with what? Gold, precious stones and pearls. Wow. Amazing that these are the exact same manifestations happening in charismatic circles round the globe.

Our apostate apostles, merchandisers of the anointing, stand in gold-threaded Armani suits instead of the prayer wrought armor of God enticing you with promises of blessing if you’ll send in your money. Aren’t we simply to “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness” and then these things, and they are only mere things, will be added to us? Since when are the marks of an apostle wealth, fame, and power? Are not the marks of a true apostle on his back from the blows and stripes of suffering for the cause of Christ?

The original 12 apostles were ambassadors in chains, prisoners of Christ. Our glitzy “super-apostles” have more in common with the miracle working magicians of Pharaoh’s court than Moses. All but one of the original apostles was martyred for his testimony of Jesus! When heads start rolling in America, will these self-professing men of God stand or will they run for their private jets to escape the persecution? There will be no room on their jets for those who made them rich. By their fruit, you will know them.

Brothers and sisters of the global church, the American church is fast becoming apostate. I live here and see it day after day. There is a praying remnant here who fear God, who have renounced charismatic witchcraft and prophetic profiteering, the sad hallmarks of the American church. Many of us have rediscovered the fear of God, the Bible, prayer, and holy living. There are many here who have not soiled their garment or bowed the knee to Baal but all you get to see is the “Greed for God” hucksterism being exported to the nations in the name of discipleship.

Forgive us. Pray for us. Do not seek to be like us. The American prophetic movement and prosperity gospel is a two headed wolf that will beguile you from the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ! Look in horror at the carnality, unsound doctrines, and wreckage of the American church. This wolf maims and devours all in its path.

In my spirit, I saw the foreshadowing of a tombstone slowly rising across our land inscribed with Isaiah 50: 10-11.

“Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the voice of his servant? Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God.

Behold, all you who kindle a fire, who equip yourselves with burning torches! Walk by the light of your fire, and by the torches that you have kindled! This you have from my hand: you shall lie down in torment.”  (Isa 50:10-11)

Come out from us and touch not the unclean thing. Don’t let our liars and merchandisers exploit you. Their prosperity promises don’t work here and they won’t work for you, either.

Seek the Lord, and live.

“But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let him be eternally condemned!” (Galatians 1:8)

With profound apology,

Bryan Hupperts, an American Christian,
Quoted from “Sheep Trax”



A Broken Spirit

 A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.  Proverbs 17:22

Remember the woman of Canaan in Matthew 15 who cried to Jesus to heal her daughter?  She cried and cried unto him until the disciples begged Him to send her away.  His answer was that He was not sent to the Gentiles, and her desperate answer was that the dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.  That got His attention, and He proclaimed how great her faith was.

Another story:  A brother I know, while traveling on an airplane, was subjected to one of the other passengers continually taking the Lord’s name in vain.  When he had finally had enough, he approached the man and said, “Praise the Lord!  I am so glad to hear that you’re saved!”  To which the puzzled man replied that he wasn’t a Christian at all.  The brother responded with, “Oh, but yes.  The Bible says that whosoever calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.  And you’ve been calling on His name this whole flight!”

It’s so easy to say that we’re a Christian and our spiritual life is covered.  Everything is going just fine.  We have some kind of a measure of faith in God, and, as long as we maintain that status quo, life is good.  We are saturated with messages of prosperity, peace, and good things to those who profess Jesus Christ.  But what happens when the sky blackens, the storms come, and your tranquil life is blown away?  How do you come to grips with the adversity that life sometimes hands us?  Does your faith still apply?  Did God just dump you?  What happened to all the messages you heard that told you that all you had to do was call, and He would answer with a snap of His fingers?

Life is good, but there comes a time when we are brought to the reality of the fact that we are still just flesh.  You cry out, but there’s no answer.  You cry out some more, but nothing but stillness.  Where’s God?  And why doesn’t He jump to our plight?  What’s going on?

As easy as it is to proclaim the goodness of God when all is well, we have a tendency to forget that this life is not reality, and that God is not something to store away in a box until Sunday. Sometimes prayer is easy.  But there are those times when you absolutely have to have an answer from God.  One fellow told me that if God answered our prayers right away, then we wouldn’t realize how much we need Him. We can send up token prayers and tell ourselves that we’ve done what the Bible says to do.  There is a depth of soul, however, that He wants to bring us into where our spirits are broken and our bones are dried out.  A place where we finally give up and surrender to Him.  It’s a place of desperate, broken prayer.

There is a point when a desperate heart will reach beyond everything seen, push through the crowd like the woman with the issue of blood, and grasp hold of the hem His garment for a miracle.  That’s the point that He was trying to get you to all along.

That’s when faith takes hold, and great and mighty moves of God are birthed.


Brother Dale


“For Demas hath forsaken me …” (2 Timothy 4:10)

How must that have felt to this old warrior who had struggled and fought to establish this Gospel that he knew was the only answer to saving the world from Hell. He had fought with demons and deacons, priests and princes. He had endured beatings, mockery and the threat of prison and death for this cause. He could have been wealthy and powerful, one of the ruling class in Jerusalem, but he turned it all away because he had met the Nazarene on the road to Damascus.

Paul knew what was at stake – Heaven for those who accepted this new revolutionary doctrine, or Hell for those who did not. Jew and Gentile alike faced the stark reality of a judgment that he must have known the utter devastating reality of. While Peter was given the ministry to the Jews, he was handed the enormous task of the rest of the Gentile world. And with that commission was the understanding that salvation would come to the Jews through the Gentiles as they fulfilled their dispensation. He had to succeed; he could not stumble and fail. Too much was hanging in the balance.

And then Demas forsook him.

I don’t suppose Paul was a soft-spoken kind of guy. Maybe he was a little too tough on Demas, or maybe he was too intense for him. He had a sharply divided sense of right and wrong, and he did not mince words to comfort hurt feelings. Rather, he made his points clear and blazingly lucid.

“Reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine.” (2 Timothy 4:2)

In other words, tell them truth! Quit pussy-footing around. Do it in love, but stay true to the doctrine. Why?

“For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine: but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; and they shall turn away their ears from the truth and shall be turned unto fables.” (2Timothy 4:3,4)

I wonder if Paul self-examined himself first when Demas left. “Was I too hard on him? Did I not consider his feelings? Do I have a bad attitude?” All questions we ask of ourselves when a good friend abandons us.

But at some point, his prophetic spirit had to take back control and say no. Even if his attitude was not socially gracious, the truth is that we are engaged in an insanely ferocious war of eternity. The destiny for billions of souls is at stake.

True love, then, is not the creamy smooth gospel that most people find so alluring. It is the stark and sometimes sharp declaration of truth that cuts away the shrouds of death to liberate the soul to walk in true righteousness in the fear of God – a doctrine that is often not the favored choice of many.

Somebody has to take that stand. Paul did. Demas did not.


Brother Dale

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Mary at Christmas

“And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; and the same man was just and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel: and the Holy Ghost was upon him.  And it was revealed unto him by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.” – Luke 2:25,26

Thirty-three years later, old man Simeon was gone, and Mary was the sole survivor of all the witnesses of the birth of God’s Messiah.  This great event of the birth of Christ was the advent of a plan that had its beginning before Creation, and that had been spoken of by the prophets and dreamed of by all Israel for thousands of years.

The Savior of the world had finally arrived, but who was there to witness this greatest of all events?  Three wise men, a handful of shepherds (and maybe a drummer boy), an old woman prophetess, and Simeon.  Besides Joseph and Mary, very few people knew what had just happened, and fewer still understood the magnitude of it.

As Simeon returned the baby back to Mary, he must have looked deeply in her eyes as he realized that she alone of all these witnesses would remain at the end.  He and the prophetess Anna were old, the shepherds were scattered, and the wise men had returned to their homes.  Even Joseph would be gone.  Only Mary would be left.

Thirty-three years later, as she knelt at the foot of a cross on Golgotha and gazed up at her son, did her heart go back to those few precious moments so many years before when she held the promise of all mankind in her arms, and a cloud of witnesses surrounded her to testify that this indeed was the Son of God?  Now they were all gone, and she alone was left as the sole witness that His was truly a virgin birth, that this really was God in Man who had come to save the world.

But now, he hung upon a rough wooden cross, rejected by the church, the government, and the people.  Only a handful of outcasts clung to Him in the last dying moments, while all the crowds who had witnessed His mighty works had fled.  How many who had once believed but had now become troubled with doubt, had turned away, leaving her to weep for Him on top of that lonely hill?

Did she ever complain?  Did she ever once deny that His birth was truly the supernatural work of the Holy Spirit?  Never.  Her silence was her strongest witness, for she of all people knew who He really was and that the mission He came to accomplish could only end this way.  He had come to die.

As we gather round the Christmas tree and recite to our children the meaning of Christmas, let us never forget the young Jewish girl who once held God’s gift to mankind in her arms and, through her suffering at the foot of the Cross, gave the world an enduring witness that truly He was the Son of God.

Thank God for His wonderful gift and the price that was paid to give it to us.



Merry Christmas to everyone
Dale & Cindy

Elijah’s Desert Walk

Elijah’s Walk in the Desert

”But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree: and he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.

And as he lay and slept under a juniper tree, behold, then an angel touched him, and said unto him, Arise and eat.” (1Kings 18:5,6)

Three hundred miles, maybe more, depending on how circuitous a route he took and where Mt. Horeb was. Forty days walking. That’s a long, lonely walk.

Although prophets of God do not lead normal lives like most people, there can be seen glimpses of our own walks with God in them. You may not have called fire down from Heaven, but every time you stood up against the normal conventions of worldliness to declare the truth of God, you do pretty much the same thing. The world by nature does not like holiness, and it will resist anyone who steps out of the crowd to call it to change. And prophets are considered the worst.

But somebody has to do it, and that’s why God calls prophets. They do not possess pleasant personalities and are not the “life of the party”. They are not swayed by others’ opinions, nor would they be considered “nice guys”. Nor do they care.

Everything is black or white to them; there are no shades of grey. It is either righteous or it is sin. And for some reason, they feel compelled to tell you so.

Even if you are the king.

You will not find them in the spotlight of a big ministry receiving the accolades of the crowd. They just don’t fit in. The corporate ministries of today are foreign soil to them. They are more suited to wearing camel’s hair in the middle of a river than the Brooks Brothers suits and coifed hairdos of this generation’s spiritual leaders. And as a result, they walk a lonely path.

Few understand, and fewer appreciate them, and none realize the price.

We think they are made of some kind of steel that doesn’t feel the loneliness or the pain of rejection. Since they don’t bend to popular attention, we think their hearts are like stones that feel no affinity for others, but the truth is, they are people just like everyone else. They love, they hate, they need, and they feel just like us. They just have to walk a different path and keep on going.

Sometimes it is for three hundred miles with no food or water just to hear the voice of God.

I had a dream many years ago of myself walking in a desert of soft sand, much like the Sahara. Each footstep was difficult as it pushed through the sand. No water, a hot sun, and nothing but sand made it a weariness just to get to the top of the next sand dune and see if the city that I was trying to get to was there. But all there ever appeared was more sand.

I didn’t know where I was or if I was heading in the right direction, but I just kept walking, hoping that I wasn’t walking in circles. And then I heard a vehicle coming from behind me. A young man with blond hair and a bronze tan drove by in a Dune Buggy, waving to me as he passed by, “Hey, Mr. Garris. I’m off to my ministry! Praise the Lord!”. And off he drove over the horizon.

You have to wonder at times like that, what is wrong with me? Why am I here trudging along in this loose desert sand heading seemingly to nowhere, while this young kid is zooming along so effortlessly to his ministry? What did I do wrong? Will I ever reach that city that I am trying so desperately to find?

Do you ever feel like that? Does it seem so simple for others, when everything seems to be a battle for you?

Forty days trudging through the wilderness just to wait in a cave. Make sense to you? I doubt if it did to Elijah either. All that way, then up a mountain to sit in a cave to wait.

First the storm, then the earthquake, and then the fire. But still Elijah waited. And then the still, small voice.

Had Elijah not allowed God to take him through that crucified walk that strips the flesh and breaks the spirit, I don’t believe he would have recognized that voice like he did. It would have been just noise, indistinguishable from all the noise of the world.

You may not have to go for three hundred miles without food and water, or stand up against a king to declare a spiritual famine upon the land. You may not call down fire from heaven or raise a woman’s dead son, but you possess in your soul the ability to declare the righteousness of God to a worldly church that is mesmerized with an easier, worldly doctrine that mistakes grace for sin and covetousness for prosperity.

You will get the same results as Elijah did and you will go through the same lonely walk as he walked. But know that you are not alone – there are 7,000 that God had reserved – and you are not walking aimlessly. You will finally step over the hill of that last sand dune and see the City that you’ve been searching for and you will recognize the still, small voice of God as He speaks to you.

“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”