The world we live in today is marked by the aftermath of a global pandemic that has shaped our society for the past three years. Amidst this crisis, there’s a voice echoing a different narrative—a call for a powerful national revival. History often reveals that great revivals emerge from times of trouble, and this moment might just be our catalyst for transformation.
When we hear the word “revival,” many instantly recall the recent spiritual awakenings on college campuses across America. However, as depicted in Christianity Today, the responses to these revivals showcase a spectrum of opinions. Amidst awe and hope, there’s a critical evaluation tinted by political correctness, dissecting and labeling the movements instead of absorbing their essence.
It’s evident we’re struggling to perceive the divine amidst our political and social lenses. We must recognize that when God moves, it defies our attempts to categorize or critique it based on our societal norms. Revival is beyond containment—it demands absorption.
Elijah’s challenge on Mt. Carmel echoes today: “How much longer will you waver, hobbling between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him! But if Baal is God, then follow him!”
Our nation and the Church stand disjointed, craving a life-changing revival. Charles Spurgeon aptly describes revival as a rekindling of a nearly extinguished life—a resurgence, a renewal.
Let’s unpack Acts 3:19:
– **Repent:** To change one’s mind or purpose, to think differently afterward, a transformation.
– **Times:** The opportune moment, a favorable time to seize.
– **Refreshing:** A recovery of breath, to breathe easy again, a spiritual rejuvenation.
– **Presence of the Lord:** The encounter with God’s face, a transformative experience impossible to endure unchanged.
Encountering God’s face leads to being breathed upon by His spirit—filled again and again. Yet, why do many struggle to face a loving Heavenly Father? Could it be that they, like the arthritic woman in Luke 13, are bent over?
This woman’s eighteen-year-long affliction left her permanently bent. Her persistence to attend the synagogue, despite her condition, mirrors the perseverance amidst our own difficulties.
Jesus, drawn to those in pain, encountered her, touched her, and she was instantly transformed. Similarly, we must allow ourselves to be touched, to look up, and embrace a new perspective.
Revival hinges on prayer and faith, but faith is paradoxical. It’s the evidence of the unseen, backed by God’s credible track record—His promises fulfilled throughout history.
Revival assumes brokenness, offering healing to our fractures. Yet, exposing our wounds is painful. We often say, “It wasn’t supposed to happen to me,” clinging to excuses or embracing purpose.
When pain becomes purpose, conversations shift from victimhood to victory. It grants us compassion, patience, and wisdom—qualities that resonate with others who’ve suffered.
God desires to breathe on His Church once more, turning our pain into purpose, our clay into vessels, and our scars into testimonies. This is revival—restoration, transformation, and the embodiment of divine grace in our lives.
As we navigate this era post-pandemic, let’s remain open to the winds of change, the breath of God, and the revival that transcends societal labels and political correctness—a revival that breathes life into the broken and rekindles hope in the weary.