Archive for the ‘Africa’ Category


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.


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One more week to go. Well, almost. (Can you tell that I’m ready to come home?) Whenever I get to this point, I start reaching out to the finish line and try to think of it in bite-sized pieces. One more week sounds better than 10 more days.

This whole mission has not been bad at all. The schedule has been easy – mostly just one service a day – and the congregations that I’ve preached to have been wildly enthusiastic.  That always makes you feel good when the people get that excited when you preach. We’ve had one healing line so far and, as usual, everyone who came to get prayed over got healed. Nothing serious, but hey, a miracle is a miracle. What a great thing it is when miracles become routine!

Even though everything is going well, I am still ready to come home. It’s not the food or the room or the people. It’s just time to go home. Something inside me is just plain bone tired. This is the part of the mission field that you don’t often hear about. We talk about the altar calls, the presence of the Spirit of God in services, and the miracle healings that take place. Or we tell the stories of how the devil pulled some crazy stunt to either stop, hinder, or kill us. It’s fun to tell these “war stories” about the grand adventure we are on, but what we don’t share is the slowing down of time until the tick-tocks of the clock, like the dripping of water, slows to a crawl. That’s the part that is difficult to relate.

And why would we? It certainly isn’t any more fun to hear than it is to tell. And honestly, it’s just part of the journey. Our focus should stay riveted on the vision, the reason why we are here. That is the thing that drives us forward to get past the obstacles and hardships in the path. This is war, and we are the soldiers. We have come to fight and to claim victory, not complain and glorify the devil.

Things are a bit different here in Nigeria, though, than in other places. In East Africa, we usually see instant victories of deliverance, salvation, and rejoicing. You can feel the reality of a coming move of God there because the message is so liberating that it spreads like wildfire. Those people embrace the promise so much that you can hear the echo across churches everywhere. They not only believe it; they expect it.

But in Nigeria, the feeling is different. I’m not sure if it is something in their culture that gives them that taciturn sternness in their demeanor or is it the enormity of the corruption and greed that you find here. Everybody is friendly, but smiles are not as easy or as readily seen as in East Africa. There is a lack of color here that reflects the feeling in the air. Whereas in Kenya, you see lots of bright yellows, reds, and greens, here everything is painted in the pallor of more somber tones and shades of grey and brown.  They are a serious people. They want God, and they are excited about the message, and they believe it, but there just seems to be a lack of real joy.

The other thing that dampens the spirit in Nigeria is the degree of corruption and greed. Corruption is endemic here – and I’m talking about in the Church, not just the rest of the society. It not only colors their attitudes but, like a thick blanket of smog, it chokes their spirits. The government officials are pocketing billions of oil money, so that the revenue never reaches down to the population. And then the Church leaders and religious charlatans rob the people of what they have left with false promises of prosperity. And the people are so desperate for hope and for God to bless them that they keep on getting suckered every time someone promises them free money and blessings. Even when they know it’s a lie.

Why are they so easily swayed? I believe it is because their souls are in such need. They want a way out of this financial, social, and spiritual oppression so badly that they will grasp at even a faint whisper of hope, no matter how wrong it is.

This oppression in Nigeria is an enormous mountain that must be moved before revival can sweep across Africa, but the magnitude of the task is so large that it seems impossible. The victory looks like it is miles and miles down the road. How will we ever be able to break through this mountain and turn Nigeria around? It seems like it would take a hundred Elijah’s to make a difference here. What can one guy do, one service at a time, one small church at a time, as we compete with Satan for the soul of Nigeria.

I don’t know. All I know is to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking. The message is the same, the Spirit of God is the same, and the vision has not changed. We keep moving forward because the world is depending on revival to start here in Africa. Even when time slows down to a crawl, we cannot quit.

I know that if you want to move a mountain, you have to exercise faith. It is the very substance of things hoped for and is what drives you on past the things that would discourage you. Your faith has to be bigger than the task before you.

Faith is birthed from hope and is the thing forges your vision.  And a vision is what enables you to grab hold of the victory that can move any mountain. A vision is blind to the facts and details that stand before you, but sees over the horizon with eyes of faith to see what God sees and what is possible with only Him. That is why Satan fears a man or a woman with a vision for God because he can’t reach where that vision goes.

But the secret element for a vision is that it is never about you. A vision pulls you out of yourself and is focused on the commission that Jesus Christ gave us when He left – others.

Time then becomes, not the slow drag of weariness, but a cadence to inevitable victory.

Tick Tock.

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Well, I am at the halfway point for this mission in Nigeria. One more week and a half of rice and chicken and I will be ready for a Big Mac … or two. Just about the time my body’s time schedule gets adjusted to Nigerian time, I will be back in the U.S. and have to do it all in reverse.

I have nothing supernatural to report today. No miracle healings, huge altar calls, or shattering breakthroughs. Each day another visit to another small church to deliver another message about revival. While I am not the jump-up-and-down excitable showman like some of these guys are here in Africa, I do catch their interest. For me, it’s not about how emotional a response I can get, but if they understand the message or not.

I believe they do, but they are often so easily swayed back to that excitable prosperity, riches-and-blessings-for-free message that so many of these false prophets here will feed them. The corruption in the Church here is beyond anything that I have seen anywhere else. They know intrinsically that it is wrong, but Oh my gosh, it feels so good! It will take a while to turn this ship around.

I think the thing that amazes me the most in this struggle for truth is that so many pastors, bishops and leaders all tell me the same thing – they recognize that what I am saying is the truth, and they have never heard anyone preach it. Huh?

Okay, I get that you recognize the truth of what I am saying because I’m just pulling it out of the Bible. There isn’t any analytical, theological, super-spiritual twist to my messages – just tell them the truth! They’ve read that book before, I’m sure. Maybe not a lot, but they have read it, so they must recognize the passages I’m pulling everything from. And their hearts are bearing witness to this message of righteousness, repentance and responsibility. They know I’m right.

But why have they not heard this before? Is it not a popular message like the ones that promise free riches and blessings?  Is there such a reluctance to tell people the truth that they would rather go along with a “feel good” ministry so that they can continue to get paid? Or has it been so long since old fashioned warriors like T.L. Osborne have preached this message here that they no longer know how to do it? Or is it simply about the stinking money?

I have heard of several instances where local pastors will harangue a host to force him to share the money they insist has been given him by their American guests, even to the point of threatening them with physical violence. I guess I am too big, ugly, and mean-looking for them to threaten me, so they come against my hosts. These are men of God?  The consuming lust of greed has taken such a hold of them that many not only cannot deliver themselves from its grasp, but are no longer able to even see how wicked they have become.

And every Sunday, they lead their congregations deeper into darkness.  So when a message of Light comes along, it is blinding.

It’s not that they haven’t heard it before — they know the truth; they’ve read the Bible; they’ve been told.

They’re just not listening.

“For everyone from the least even unto the greatest is given to covetousness, from the prophet even unto the priest every one dealeth falsely. For they have healed the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace.” Jeremiah 8:10-11

Brother Dale

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I am in Ughelli, a small city in Delta State of Nigeria. I’d try to google what the population is but the internet is so slow here, it would take 15 minutes just to get an answer. Probably close to 100,000. There are people crawling all over the place no matter where you look.

Nigeria is very crowded in the south, but the infrastructure is undeveloped. There’s lots of people, but not a well-developed retail environment.  All those billions upon billions pour in from the oil that is being drilled, but they can’t fix the roads, keep the electricity on, or build a modern infrastructure. I am repeatedly told that it is because of the deep level of corruption here. It’s in the air, in the way they think, and the way they act. They could be one of the most developed countries in Africa except for this cancer that has robbed them of their prosperity.

I wonder if there is a correlation with the Church in Nigeria. You see signs and banners everywhere advertising the next great miracle conference, the next Night of Miracles, or the next incredible, spectacular, fantastic, death-defying, miracle-generating, prosperity-showering, supernatural three-ring circus. Step right up folks! Get your once in a lifetime anointing to fix all your problems, solve your money worries, and generally make you feel a lot better.

And yet, sin is endemic and the corruption leaches out of these religious snake oil salesmen like the ooze of a poisonous wound. The people are so starved for the truth that they will grasp for anything, hoping that God will somehow see their plight and bestow upon them their showers of blessings. And so they flock to these false prophets that are everywhere like fleas on a dog, and end up feeding the very corruption that is destroying them.

But there are those who see and understand. They know that the Gospel is not about themselves; it is about others. This is the great challenge for Nigeria, for revival cannot take root in poisoned soil. They recognize the darkness for what it is and are determined to stand for the truth. But you rarely find them in the big churches. It always seems to be the pastors of the small congregations who recognize that this fake prosperity message is nothing more than Satan’s plan to keep the Church away from repentance, from true holiness, and from a willingness to carry the cross in sacrifice so others can escape Hell.

Hasn’t that always been the way? Throughout history, revivals have most often been birthed outside the theological established halls of religion and have been more revolution than revival.

I have visited some these churches this week. I can tell they are ready for a true Holy Ghost revival because of their overwhelming response to the message of repentance, righteousness, and revival. They get it. And they’re excited to hear it. And they want more.  They want revival and they recognize that this old-fashioned message is the way to get it.

I am looking forward to a time when not the fiscal but the spiritual prosperity will bloom and the infrastructure of the gifts and operation of the Holy Spirit rises up out of the rubble of this failed religious chicanery. For that to happen, these men and women will have to challenge this endemic corruption in the Church. It will not be easy or quick, but I believe there are heroes-in-the-making here who will hold up the Blood Stained Banner over this country and declare victory.

Brother Dale — (Join our email list)

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It was snowing as I left Germany, but it was sultry and hot as I arrived in Lagos. Three days of traveling across who knows how many miles have left me ready to get it over with. But it’s not done. Because of flight delays, I have lost my seat on the plane to Warri, Nigeria. Instead I have to wrangle a ticket re-issue at the Lagos airport. Seems simple, right? Oh, but then you haven’t been to Lagos!

At 5:30 in the morning, the domestic terminal is a madhouse. I was hoping that there wouldn’t be many people here and I would be able to get a new ticket easily and simply, but the opposite is the case.  Immediately on getting out of the cab, I am scooped up by a couple of guys that quickly throw my luggage on a cart and start wheeling me into the terminal. This is normal here. They’re just trying to make a few bucks by carrying your bags.

When I try to beg off, I find out that they are some kind of official Porters that are informing me that their job is to do all the paperwork for me. Just sit down and relax. “Doan warry!” (Whenever I hear that, I start worrying.)

At this point, I am so worn out from what I’d been through the last couple days that I don’t care if they are scamming me or not. Take the money; just get me on the plane. Two hundred bucks later, I have a new ticket, my excess baggage is paid and loaded, and I am actually able to get on the plane.

Except that I can’t go to Warri. The flight is full, so I have to go to Benin, which is a couple hours away from where my first conference meeting is about to start.

What a great start to this trip!  Boy, I can’t wait to see what else is in store for me.

Despite everything, however, everyone was waiting for me and I just rolled on up to the pulpit soon after we walked in as if nothing was wrong.

Service was great. At least they said so. I’m not sure what I said. The inertia from travelling was still carrying me along and I was operating on automatic pilot. Pastors were excited and vowed to take this message to the streets, while others were saying that they had never heard these things before. Which is kind of surprising to me because it’s just stuff out of the Bible. Don’t they read?

The evening service was even better. I was still pretty tired, but at least I had caught a nap before getting up behind the pulpit again. We are at a church that I was at five years ago when it was only four months old. They keep calling me Papa because they say that I started the fire back then that launched their church.

That’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. I believe that most of the places I have been to want revival and are willing to do what the Lord requires — they just don’t know what to do. But when they hear it broken down into a step-by-step manner, the light comes on and the belief is planted in them that they can actually do this. They just have to start.

Over the years, we have heard hundreds of reports of how these little churches will catch the fire and grow. Sometimes it’s just doubling or quadrupling the size of the church; sometimes it’s planting new churches; sometimes it is heading off into the bush to bring this message to other churches just like I am doing. It’s as if they have been waiting for someone to come along and tell them what to do and then get out of the way and watch them go.

There’s a hunger here that must be fed. I see that same hunger in every place throughout history wherever revival has broken out. We have planted the idea in their hearts that, yes, they can do this. And while it may not be easy, it is simple. They just need someone to point out the direction.

I don’t know when or how this last Great African Revival will start, but it will start. I believe that we will hit a flash point and it will all rise up together in a might conflagration. We just have to keep sowing the seed of that idea into them.


Brother  Dale

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We’re here in Buchanan City. Buchanan would be a moderate city for Liberia, but it’s really, really run down. We met with the Governor and his chief Religious Officer for the area. They are both strong, excitable Christians. As the Religious Officer shook my hand, he said, “I can tell there’s fire in your eyes.” I thought, wow, this is a good sign.
The services we had were a conference for over 20 churches in the area that wanted to join the Revivalfire Movement of Liberia. This is a new organization that was set up by Pastors Momo and Theo to continue the message of revival that I brought back in 2014 during the Ebola Crisis. About 50 people showed up ready to absorb everything they could. They want revival and are like sponges soaking up everything I tell them.

Services were great. I didn’t need an interpreter, and that always makes it so much easier. The schedule was for two services a day – one in the morning, one in the evening, a women’s conference on the fourth day, and then an ordination service for me to anoint, commission, and ordain pastors and apostles to this organization. I guess that makes me a bishop now.

Right from the start, the momentum started to pick up and the services were on fire. Blazing services! The Spirit of the Lord was moving so strong that they were with me every step of the way. Some of them would even quote verses before I got around to quoting them. No matter how strong or controversial I was, they were right in sync with me. They got it!

I passed out the Four Steps to Revival and our Revivalfire brochures to everyone. They held on to them as if they were life preservers. These people were serious. They were serious not only about revival, but about what it takes to have one. They understand that there is a price to pay for any move of God, and but that the messages that are coming out of America – the bland, Jesus-loves-you messages – are not doing anybody any good. Those kind of homogenized, placid messages will never effect change because they don’t challenge the hypocrisy that inhabits the church.

The questions at the end of each session reflected that same understanding. “What about false prophets that say things that never happen?” “What about ordinations and titles?” These were things that they knew were wrong but had inserted themselves into the church. They exhibited a level of understanding that you don’t see in many other places.

In other places where we do not see that level of understanding and participation, we still see great moves of God because there is always a handful of people that are willing to light the torch and head off into the darkness to plant churches and start revivals. So what can we expect here? If only a handful have done great things in other places as a result of these meetings, what will happen here in Liberia where the response is so much greater?

I am pretty excited, but I am so worn out that it is only the excitement that keeps me up and running. When I get back to the hotel, I collapse. I’m not as young as I used to be. Or is it that the devil is fighting us stronger because he can see what is happening here?

It may not be easy out here, but I am looking forward to some great things to happen.

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The African soul is tied closely to the earth, almost as if was somehow merged with the soil from which we have all come from. It’s not the bare feet or the rural setting that you find here, but more of a huskiness and an earthy feel to everything, from their art and music, to the brightly colored primitive designs of their fabrics that they wrap themselves in that lends color and atmosphere to the air you breath. It’s as if their connection with Mother Earth inhabits their very breath.

Western sophistication seems artificial in contrast. Our high-paced electric intensity, lit in the neon lights of our digital society, may seem brighter at first glance, but somehow loses a depth of color that hints at a depth of soul that is shallow in comparison. It’s something that is hard to put in words but can be felt when you are here, immersed in their midst.

True revival is not based on money or sophistication. Actually, I believe those things actually work against a true revival. When we become set on our own artificial substance and abilities, we lose the essential reliance upon God that is an absolute requirement for God to move among us.

Not” by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD of hosts.” (Zech. 4:6)

Revival will break out in Africa first because they need Him more than we do in the West. Yes, they have a long way to go in other essentials, but their hearts have a childlike reliance on God that we have lost. They can learn to do those other essentials, but it is not so easy for us to change our soul.

I don’t know what to think about all these things. I look out over the patchwork of tiny garden plots amidst the shambles of worn out shacks, poverty, and dirt and I wonder how will God do this? Is this really possible that He will raise these simple, earthy people to a place of revival that the world will envy?

But then, that would be just like Him to do that.

Me? I will just keep on hammering out this message that He has given me. It seems to be working everywhere that I have brought it. Sometimes I wonder how that is possible to go to places no one else will go, to wring out my soul to a small people in small churches in desolate places, and watch them ignite in place after place.

The Lord gave me a vision once where I could see myself taking precious seeds and sticking them deep into foot-high furrows of soft brown earth. The seed will germinate in its time and miraculously reappear as a harvest.

I don’t have to know how; I just have to keep planting that seed into those soft furrows of earth and pray that the rain will soften the hard fallow ground back home.

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