It has been almost a week since I have written about this trip. It has been explosive every day, and each day I try to write, but the days are so exhausting that all I can do is put if off until tomorrow. Or the day after. And now, its a week later.
On the 2nd day at the rural town of Ruburizi, we had a parade! That’s right, a parade.
It was at the start of the 2nd service when there was a disturbance in the back of the room. People were moving out of the way and there was a banging noise coming this way. And then I saw a contingent of Ugandan Army soldiers, complete with drums, trumpets, trombones and an old beat-up tuba, marching through the crowd toward the pulpit.
Yeah, I’m a little shocked. That’s not quite the word to describe it, but you can just imagine.
They marched right up to the front and began to play a gospel song, and then led the entire congregation, 300 to 400 strong, out into the streets to march through the entire town with everyone from the church following. What a scene! I have never in my 70 years ever seen anything like it.
Obviously, we started the evening service late, but no one seemed to care. After the parade, everyone filed back into the church. As a matter of fact, we may have picked up a few strays. I don’t remember how late the services lasted, but the intensity was now set. This was not a polite, accommodating crowd; this was a loud, hands raised, hallelujah-shouting, boisterous crowd. Just the way I like it. This was about revival, parade or no parade, and these people were excited with a message that not only clearly described what revival really is, but also what must be done to get one.
I find that many Americans do not realize how well Africans understand deeply spiritual issues. They understand better than many Western preachers that revival is not free. The soft messages they get from Americans of “Come to Jesus”, “God is going to bless His people”, and Jesus Loves You” make for fine services to encourage everyone, but they will not bring real serious change. Only a true message of repentance will do that. I have heard Africans tell me so many times that Americans no longer bring the same message that they brought 50 years ago. We have slid into a kinder, gentler message of grace, love, and blessings. Sounds nice, but they know better. The message that both Jesus and John the Baptist brought is what brings the revolution that spawns any true revival.
We closed the revival meetings on the third day. The place was packed. I guess the parade did its work and made enough of an impact to bring even more people. There must have been 500 people packed into this huge open building. It was great, as if the momentum was still building and this was the culmination.
And then, as we were done, a woman came up with problems in her legs. I got on my knees and laid hands upon her hands where the pain was and prayed. Gone. Just Ike always. She believed God, and He heard her and healed her.
And then there was another. And another. I looked up and saw a dozen or so people heading my way. Oh boy, here it comes. Normally, once the healing starts, it is like an oil that flows. You can sense it flowing (it’s hard to describe what that feels like), and once it starts flowing, everybody starts coming up to get healed. It usually means another hour or two before we will be done. But not this time. Only a couple dozen came to the front while most everyone else was heading out the back.
And then here came the blind girl, led by hand by her caretaker. Now, I have prayed over six blind people and seen each of them healed. Amazing, incredible miracles. But I have to tell you, I am still intimidated by the prospect of praying for such an monumental miracle of God. Yes, i realize it is God doing the miracle and I am just an instrument of His power, but Jesus didn’t tell us to ask the Father to do the healing; He told us to do it.
So I did what I always do — I laid hands on her eyes and I took power and dominion over all sickness, all pain, all darkness, and all blindness and I commanded the blindness to depart and claimed the healing power of God.
She just stood there. Did it work? Can you see? If not, we will pray again.
“How many fingers to I have up?”
“Three”
Bingo! She was healed! Not only did God heal her blindness, but I found out later she was also deaf, and God healed her deafness at the same time. How cool is that?
Later on, when my host, Pastor Peter, went back to the church, she ran out of the church to meet him, looking for me. No longer was she being led by the hand as she carefully stumbled over the rough ground. No, she ran!
Each time that I have seen the blind healed, I get choked up when I hear that cry, “I can see!”. It strikes me that this is what revival is all about. The church, like Lazarus, coming out of darkness into the Light of God’s Word to bring life, light, and salvation to a world that is lost in the dark.
I hope I never lose that feeling.
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