Revival?

I know I have dropped off the blogging grid for awhile -- sick kids, Tilly, DC, it's been wild. And now I find myself in Lakeland, Florida where all I have to say is something is UP. I can't say "this is that" which was prophesied, but it's at least a taste to make us hungry for what is coming.

We have been here since Thursday. We spontaneously changed our return tickets from DC to come down here and see firsthand what was happening. Our friend, Kelsey Hays, was dramatically healed last week here in these meetings, which have gone from a 700-seat church to an 8,000-seat auditorium to a stadium with capacity for 11,000.

The first night I think I was too tired to feel anything. The words kept coming from the platform, "Ooooo, do you feel that? Do you feel that?" And I had to admit, nope, I feel absolutely nothing. In fact, I don't like the music and it's cold in here. What got me though, was the little children who have been healed. Kids don't lie. The desperation and the faith that is evident here is off the charts.

Friday night it went to the stadium. Paul Cain's vision? I guess that remains to be seen. You could feel the anticipation in the air. The seats filled up and there were people overflowing on the hills outside the stadium. No one got out of a wheelchair -- at least no one who was bound to it. Our friend, Telma still had a bent spine. Grayson still had a sore throat. But when we left at 1:00 am after Todd Bentley laid hands on every single person in the stadium, I felt we would never be the same. No one in our group manifested by shaking or yelling "HO" or falling down (although we did get pushed). No one had a vision or saw angels. But we are ruined for nothing less than the glory of God blanketing the earth and empowering His people. The day is coming for sure and we have renewed hope to press on.

Last night was completely different than the others. I had waves of weeping come over me. I looked back at Mercy and Laura a few times to see them crying too. The holy power of God was hovering over that place. A bunch of people came forward to be set free from drugs and other addictions -- many gave their lives to Jesus. Demons manifested, came out and grown men who had struggled for years were set free.

Toward the end, something erupted in the crowd - a loud roar - and I looked down to see a little boy who was bent in every limb taking steps on the baseball field. This child had cerebral palsy and had been in a wheelchair. His words were precious, 'This is a dream come true". He didn't run, he was still bent, but something measurable happened in his body. It's like a small taste of what is coming -- the great end time revival that will sustain the people of God through the most severe crisis of human history.

Is "this" the beginning of "that"? Not sure. I don't know what "this" is, but I am just glad I am here. Randy and I have always said that if Azusa Street was happening in our day, we would do whatever we had to to get there. God made a way, and here we are. I am leaving with a holy hunger and faith rising in my spirit. At the end of the day, it's a win win.