We need revival!

Being “new” to this side of the tracks, I will immediately confess my extreme skepticism and doubts in anything that falls under the title of “revival”. I’ve seen the snake charmers and people convulsing on the floors of road-side tents and the Dateline special where they prove all of it to be an intricate hoax, a smoke & mirrors act of supreme nature with evil intentions of embezzling your hard earned money. That was where *I* formed my opinion of what a “revival” must be.

Well, on our first evening in Rwanda, with new eyes to see from, new ears to hear from and a new heart that beats with intensity from God’s almighty love I had the chance to truly embrace my trust in God and stretch my faith yet again! As “luck” would have it while we walked up the long hill to Nyanja’s house to be greeted for the first time by the amazing Josephine ~ QUEEN of hospitality and the painfully shy Samuel ~ a young man after God’s heart, we heard this rumbling from a sound system off in the distance. Amanda immediately announced “there’s a revival going on down there” we could see the people gathered and lights from where we were walking. The words of worship to the Lord boomed through the air, crystal clear as if the night was completely silent, all of creation had paused to hear the good Word. I immediately became giddy with excitement I could NOT BELIEVE it, a revival ~ honestly, a true blue revival ~ in RWANDA no less ~ oh dear Lord let’s NOT MISS THIS!!! Just moments earlier I was starving and couldn’t wait to get to Josephine’s home cooked Rwandan feast but now my hunger for the Lord appeased all human cravings for food and there was nourishment from a much greater source that my body and soul ached for from the depths of my bones! We proceeded to Nyanja’s home, ate our delicious meal and enjoyed the remarkable company of Josephine and Samuel for the very first time. Like a kid in a candy store, I could not get that revival out of my heart (although my mind was off on its own tangent), it didn’t help that we could hear everything perfectly radiating from the loud speakers at Nyanja’s house. I BURNED inside with anticipation, I had to find out some way to get my butt down to that revival to just be present! Before I could even muster the courage to ask some others were proposing the idea to walk down there…I jumped on that band wagon immediately and Nyanja sent Samuel with 7 of us to be our guide.

We walked down one steep hill after another, washed out roads like you have never imagined (comparable to the feel of a cliff), stumbling through giant potholes that could eat you alive, meandering throughout the pitch black of night. There are no street lights or yard lights to brighten the path, it’s a stumble and fall kind of blind walk through darkness! A bit symbolic wouldn’t ya say. So I guess it was the perfect journey to reach our destination

We reached the revival, ‘the place was packed’, it looked like an open soccer field or something of the sorts was the host of our heavenly festival. Lights were bright, a big ol stage and a huge sound system, and of course a flawlessly, perfect night. A preacher was going to town lost in the heat of his passion with a Rwandan man translating in the local dialect called Kinyarwanda (a language I’m told is nearly impossible to learn and native to Rwanda). As he translated the words seemed to transform into rhythmic beats that saturated my heart even if I couldn’t comprehend on a conscious level. The passion birthed from the preacher electrified as it rolled off the tongue of the local man to his desperately hungry Jesus fans who responded eagerly with hoots, hollers, cheers, smiles, tears, praise, and all out physical worship. A sight you have to see with your own two eyes to comprehend.

Here again I learned yet many things about myself, but more importantly many things about my God as well! I learned I’m a very reserved worshipper who is secretly dying inside to just abandon my reservations and shout with reckless joy like Africans do so gracefully. I was burning up inside to just “LET GO” and dive into the middle of this sea of ebony beauty. I felt at home with my God and more comfortable here with Him than the church pew I regularly visit on Sunday mornings. I thought I was content in my life just too finally know God, I had no clue I had been designed with a little bit of African flavor in this heart of mine! I found that out beyond doubt dancing in a dirt field of Kigali, Rwanda on July 11, 2008. I learned God is present in all situations no matter what your personal connotations may conjure up in that brain of yours ~ or as my grandpa says the limitations of “stinkin thinkin”. When God is called upon or when He plans a divine appointment He comes through, it doesn’t matter if us little people doubt or support Him. My previous assumption of “revival” limited my interaction for no less than one nano-second as I immediately FELT GOD’S PRESENCE and I realized it didn’t matter the legitimacy of this church body who was running the revival ~ the politics behind the organization did not matter one ounce to God so why should I waste one moment of my time pondering this unnecessary detail, just forget that Dateline special already and dance, girl!!

Why not?

God was there sporting His finest smile, singing with Kinyarwanda rhythm, dancing with African soul and vibrating through the vocal chords of English words. I learned revival is soooo real, God wanted me to know this and He gifted me a once in a lifetime opportunity to be front row with VIP seats to His magnificent concert in Rwanda. What sealed the deal in my heart is when a man was called to the stage to offer his testimony and he shouted with relief that God had touched him during this week long revival and for the first time in 14 years he learned how to truly embrace forgiveness. He trusted in God and he was blessed with the courage to forgive the neighbor who murdered almost his entire family during the genocide. A neighbor he still lived next door to 14 years later. He described torturous moments of his long survival by hiding in the swamp under the piles of decaying bodies. In the moment my eyes transfixed on this man I had a personal encounter with God, time froze for a second or so then with a heart beat I found myself staring at the reality of my shattered, broken soul laying on the dirt floor before me. Just hours before I was inside the genocide memorial so this man's words hit me hard on many levels. The magnitude of God’s grace is indescribable and something I wish we could all physically feel the presence of. This man shouted with relief and thanksgiving to have found the gift of forgiveness in his life, he finally felt free. I too knew that freedom of forgiveness, undeniably incomparable to the huge level this Rwandan man was experiencing, but I knew of God’s powerful grace in my own life. God knew beyond doubt I’d be whole heartedly “on his team” enjoying His revival after that testimony. And I was! So I mingled my way into the swarm of kids just at the closing of this revival when the preachers were pumping these kids up through the roof! Saturday was going to be their last day and they had all sorts of special activities planned for the children, so of course they proceeded to tempt them with all the heavenly bliss they could before these children were to go home!

Within minutes I realized all the “white folks” had packed up and left for the night and I peered around to see our 7 faces as the last remaining albino’s around. Instantly I found myself SURROUNDED by 20-30+ children. They were arguing and fidgeting with one another just at the chance they might touch me. And the chaos commenced with an earth shattering hug from one special little boy. He walked right up to me as the crowd of little ones was beginning to cluster around and he grabbed a hold tightly around my waste as if we had known one another our whole lives, a bear hug of grand proportion. Immediately he looked right up at me. His piercing eyes consumed me with this intense stare, deep, deep, deep into and right through me. I hugged him back and returned his gaze until I felt uncomfortable and inept in returning the passion from my own eyes. I truly believe this was another intimate moment with Jesus, yet in the present time I didn’t know it and the power of His eyes left me feeling overwhelmed by not knowing how to return the depth of love within and through my eyes. I broke away from the moment feeling that my gaze was empty in comparison to what was stirring inside of me from his engaging eyes. And in a split second the boy ran off, boisterously joining his friends who were leaping around on cloud nine, just as all little boys do.

Then God granted me another moment with Jesus, if I couldn’t handle the love from His eyes, maybe He should just reach out to touch me. A girl somewhere in the preteen to teen age range suddenly appeared at my side and nestled her little body into my shoulder before I could even catch a glimpse of her face, hugging me in the most weakened, broken manner I have ever felt another human body all but collapse into my arms. I rubbed her back and gently hugged her as she just held onto me as if never to let go. I felt so inept in consoling her and had no idea about what I should do so I just hugged her for as long as she wanted. Without ever making eye contact with me, she let go after what seemed to be a very long but I’m certain very short few minutes and she slipped away through the crowd and I never did get the chance to see her eyes, or her face or her again. I thought long and hard about this girl after that moment and I realized why I couldn’t let go of her. She symbolized me on my own journey coming to Jesus for the very first time asking for His love, shy and unsure if He’d hug me back, I wrapped my broken arms around Him too ashamed to look His way and I just melted into Him for as long as I could possibly soak His love into my heart and when I physically felt His love it gave me the strength to let go and stand on my own two feet again. This little girl was me not too long ago and I hope she found the refuge she was seeking in my arms. I think of her often and I am in awe that God takes the time to teach me in such physical ways. I couldn’t possibly deny his hand upon my life.

As I looked around to find the others from our team that were with me, Donny included, I realized we were all engulfed in a sea of excited children! Donny was pulling out some crazy white-boy dance moves and the children were dying from laughter as they tried to imitate his horrendous lack of rhythm and to my surprise THEY WERE DOING IT WITH EASE! I laughed from the depths of my aching belly, gasping to catch my breath at this golden sight before my eyes! WHERE WAS MY CAMERA! I fell a little more in love with Donny in this moment, seeing him abandon his dignity for the joy of these children touched my heart deeply. He didn’t need words to communicate he had his own humiliation that could connect and join us all in laughter! Whenever I reminisce of those few prized moments, my stomach muscles just ache in memory of the never-ending hilarity.

The long walk home was comparable to a red carpet event in Hollywood. We attempted to walk back to Nyanja’s house but we were literally imprisoned by an arguing wall of anxious kids all bickering for their chance to hold our hands, touch our arms, hug us and walk near us. I felt like a movie star and had NO CLUE why these kids thought we were such hot stuff. With the obvious language barrier we had no idea how to rationalize or communicate to them we were just nobodies! Eventually they managed to drift off one by one as I imagine we passed by their homes. Samuel was trying desperately to free us from the clenches of the mob of children’s eager hands, but he wasn’t having any luck. We all were alive with excitement; the faces of Amanda, Simon, Chris, Evelyn, Nate and Donny were glowing with the same joy I was feeling. It was a phenomenal moment to be a part of, and absolutely nothing that we could have tried to plan! This was a God moment and I'm so thankful I didn't miss it. The most miraculous of all was that the only way we could connect with these children was the mention of Jesus, that English word they DID know. Before we’d even finish the second syllable they would erupt with laughter, excitement and cheerful giggles. On that walk home we worshipped our love for the Father, Son and Holy Spirit with each step, breath, heart beat, smile and song. These children taught me so much about faith in a short walk up a dirt hill, they were brilliant little role models! It was completely surreal to be almost drowning in love from these children desperate to smother you in it (physically!). Here was my final lesson of the night ~ this is how much God loves us, this is what His love feels like in living color, in tangible form, surrounded by a sea of desperate, happy, enlivened, spiritually charged hearts just aching to embrace you and physically connect to you with one big massive hug, so much love inside their bursting hearts they couldn’t control themselves ~ this is the magnitude of God’s deep love for each of us. How blessed we were to be taught this lesson through the souls of 60-70 vibrant little children. This is the way God loves each and every one of us. This is how I draw the conclusion that “WE NEED REVIVAL”! Amen!