We’re heading home tonight. I’m sitting here at my hotel in Nairobi, looking out the window and wondering if I will ever be back again.
I go through this almost every time. It’s a bittersweet feeling leaving this place. I am worn out and spent after dozens of services in a score of little churches throughout Kenya, but exhilarated from watching the power of God work in the hearts of these people. I can’t wait to get home, but I can’t wait to get back.
The challenges that face my returning to Africa are more than financial. The hardest challenges have to do with slogging through spiritual battles, the blanket of spiritual resistance that Satan throws at me, and the weariness of this old flesh that has to be continually shoved aside. But oh, the excitement to see the power of God at work through this little ministry, and to hear and see the transformation that takes place in these little churches where I have been! This is more than just having some good church services – these are bursts of spiritual breakthroughs and transformations for these churches. Several places would cry out at the end of the service that they would never be the same again. When is the last time you heard that?
These people in Africa are torn wide open to the real Gospel, not the one of blessings, prosperity, and sweet love—they’ve had enough of that – but the Gospel of righteousness, power, and true revival. Services here are electrifying, not only during the singing that raises the rooftops with praises and shouting, but the poignant soul-searching at the Altar Call. This is a land whose fallow ground has been broken up and is ready for the seed to be planted deep in its soil.
They are desperate for revival – not just for the blessings of Spirit-filled services and an outpouring that fills the room, not just for the miracles and supernatural healings that happen, but for the close presence and holiness of the Lord. They are hungry for His presence.
How can I not be desperate to return? Africa is like vivid Technicolor in comparison to the spiritual shades of grey in America. There is a sound in the air of the abundance of rain. I can hear the thunder coming and see the clouds forming on the horizon. It is about to rain – no, pour! – in this dry and thirsty land.
And yet, I fear God and dare not go beyond the leading of His Spirit. I know that it is not I that will spread the fires revival here – I am just striking matches – but those whose torches that I have lit. God will raise up His ministers, stones that He has raised, to spread that fire and carry revival to the rest of the world while I will be sitting on my porch in Texas hearing about the wonderful works of God that have sprung out of this ground.
Fire and rain. Two seemingly opposite images that God uses for revival. I am striking matches and planting seeds, but the rain will come and bring forth the harvest, and the fire will fall and spread throughout the world. Then the vision will be complete.
As for me, my heart longs for home and family, a comfortable bed and a Big Mac … and a REAL cup of coffee! Tomorrow the call may come again to finish the planting and prepare the ground. Whether it be in Kenya, Nigeria, Tanzania, or wherever the Spirit of the Lord leads only God knows.
All I ask is send me, oh God, send me.
Brother Dale
www.revivalfire.org
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