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Archive for August, 2011

Praise the Lord everybody. I haven’t written much on this trip, I guess because all the exotic stuff about being in Africa is becoming routine.  Even the excitement that we have in services here is … I don’t want to say routine, but I’ve had a thousand or more services like this and how many times can you tell the same story?  I must be getting old, callous, or accustomed to the supernatural.

This trip has been different than the others; possibly the most important one. For one thing, we have been attacked by the devil harder than we have ever been, so that has to tell you something. But there have been new open doors that I have not had before. For instance, I was invited to meet the President of Burundi (a Born-Again Christian who has two of my books), I’ve been on an hour long broadcast on national TV in Rwanda as well as a couple hours on Radio Rwanda and another station. I’ve preached at the biggest churches in Burundi, passed out a thousand “Four Steps to Revival” and over 200 Bibles, and seen over 400 souls get saved in just this trip alone.

But it’s the intensity and violent outpourings of the Holy Spirit that is what I am finding extraordinary.  I’ve had services before that were so anointed that you felt like you were floating, where people could actually see the glow of the Shekinah Glory. I’ve had healing lines where EVERBODY got healed, and services where the church we were at doubled and tripled in numbers within a week or so.  But there is something deeper about this trip that I have not sensed before.  Maybe that’s why I have gone through so much fire.

Yesterday and today really put a point on things.  We are done with Burundi and Rwanda, and will be finishing up here in Uganda for
a week or so before I finally go home. (I’ve been gone for 2 months).  Up until now, we have not seen any serious healings on this trip — there were 100 of them on the last trip to Uganda, but none so far on this one. That changed yesterday.

We were way out in the mountain villages.  At first, I was a little dismayed yesterday as we struggled through an hour of mountain dirt roads to end up at some little church on top of a mountain.  Here we had come all this way, spent all this money, time, and energy (that I was just about out of by now), for this little tiny church? Why didn’t someone tell us that it was going to be such a small crowd way out in the middle of nowhere!  (Can you tell I’m getting worn out and cranky?)

Stupid me.  I should have had a clue when I saw all the tarps strung out over the field. But at least I sucked it up, knowing that I have been in this situation before and have seen God pour out incredible anointings on these little tiny settings … just like with Cornelius in Acts 10. It has happened to me more times than I can remember.

Sure enough, here they came.  From all over, for miles around, walking for hours to get there. It wasn’t the number of people that got me – it was the intensity of their desperate hunger for God that really grabbed me. Preaching to this crowd was like dropping a match on a tank of gasoline. How do you describe the workings of the Spirit that takes place in the realm of the soul?

And then came the healings. At the end of the second service on the first day, Pastor Noah called for everyone to place their hand on wherever the pain was as I got up to pray for the healing. Several people came up to tell us of the debilitating things that they got instantly healed of, but one guy came forward who had a broken arm. He couldn’t pick anything up, couldn’t twist it or put it behind his back, or even touch anything. It was really broken … until we prayed. When he put his hand on where the pain was, God also put His hand on it and healed it completely in an instant. We could see where the scar was. He could hardly believe his own eyes! God really does do the supernatural.

Today, however, was even more special.  As far as I’m concerned, healing the blind is right up there with raising the dead.  It’s always scary for me to pray over someone who is blind. I’m sorry, but I have a real struggle with the challenge to my faith when that happens.  And yet, earlier this year an old lady received her sight when I prayed over her. Still …  

So I was in my ” Oh God, help me, I’m scared ” mode when I was asked to pray over a man who had lost his sight two years ago. So I prayed.  And prayed, and prayed, and prayed.  Can’t feel anything.  And I can’t ask him anything because he doesn’t speak English. So I prayed some more. Then Noah prayed over him. Then we both prayed. Noah asked him if he could see, and he said he could begin to make out fuzzy shapes. Whoa!  That’s just like in Mark 8 when Jesus prayed over the guy and he could barely make out shapes.  Now I’m encouraged. This just might really happen!

We prayed some more, and now he could see better – not perfect, but better.  Noah held out his hand, and the guy saw it and shook it.  Noah told him to follow him as he backed up and then turned, and the guy followed him into the turn.  He could see!  Yeah, you heard me. He could see!

Why am I so surprised?  It is one thing to talk about this happening to someone else; it’s entirely another thing to be faced with this kind of a supreme challenge to your faith.  I have made it through many times to see God do things that were supernatural, but living in a carnal world casts a shade upon you that keeps supernatural faith at arm’s length. You have to reach hard for it every time. I don’t know if it was me, Noah, or the blind man, but somebody reached out and touched the hem of His garment.

I wish you could see some of the things we are experiencing here almost every day. This is really happening. God is moving in incredible ways.  I have said it over and over and will say it again – the last great revival prophesied in the Book of Joel and Isaiah will begin in Africa because they are so desperately hungry for God, and He will use them to send the fire around the world. I believe I am seeing the very beginnings of that Great African Revival.

Brother Dale, dale@revivalfire.org

 

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“And Elijah said unto Ahab, Get thee up, eat and drink; for there is a sound of abundance of rain.” 1Kings 18:41

On our way to our last series of services in Rwanda, we drove past the place where the 1970 revival first broke out in a little round building just off the highway. It was small and unassuming by any standards, and nothing would have suggested anything extraordinary, but this is the place where the heavens first broke wide open in 1970 and started an outpouring of the Holy Ghost that swept across the Africa.

It was here that a small group of determined prayer warriors took hold of the horns of the altar of God and crashed the gates of Heaven, crying out to God with broken hearts for God to send revival. They gathered in this tiny place and cried and cried and cried out to God to send revival. They were just a handful of simple country folk, but they had the courage to believe God and hold Him to His Word. They refused to let go until He sent revival, and when it came, it broke out like a fire that raged across the continent.

Our generation has forgotten the art of spiritual war. We pray like children in comparison to these old warriors who, like Elijah, knew how to storm the Throne of God. When we hold revival prayer meetings, we do more fellowshipping with each other than serious contending with God. It’s because we are not desperate – not like those people in 1970 for whom nothing else mattered. Like Rachael in Genesis 30:1, their cry was, “Give me souls or else I die!” That is the difference between us and them, and the results are predictable.

Before leaving, we stood in the center of that tiny room and bound together in contending prayer for God to once again send revival to this land, to rend the heavens and come down in the fullness of His power. Break forth like a fire and consume us with your glory! Send revival once again, O God!

We were standing on holy ground – the very place where the fire had broken out 40 years ago. I felt like I was standing at Bethel, the very entrance to Heaven. As we lifted our voices, it felt as if a hole had already been punched into the heavens by the saints that had been here before us, and our prayers shot straight into the Throne Room of God. I knew, absolutely knew, that we were standing right before the God of the whole Earth – right before His Throne! He had heard us and He had answered us. The answer was already on the way. It was such a powerful sensation that I began to laugh and laugh and laugh. We were standing in the Presence of God!

Lightning rarely strikes in the same place twice. This shrine to the 1970 revival sits in the middle of a placid Anglican compound on top of a hill overlooking a lake. No one prays there anymore; the ringing cries of the old dedicated warriors are no longer heard through the night. Souls no longer get saved there and the sick no longer come to get healed. There are no shimmers of the Shekinah glory to be seen nor songs of revival to be heard. It sits as a silent testament of a former generation who were desperate enough to cry out to God and keep on crying until the heavens broke wide open.

There will be one last great revival before Jesus comes back. I believe it will begin in Africa. Across this continent from Kenya to Nigeria, I hear the echoes of that same desperation that drove those old warriors to the Throne. God can hear them also. It is a unique sound that is unlike any other.

It is the sound of an abundance of rain.

Oh that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that thou wouldest come down, that the mountains might flow down at thy presence, as when the melting fire burneth, the fire causeth the waters to boil, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at thy presence!
(Isa 64:1-2)


 

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