Revival fires are springing up all over the country and world since the beginning of the outpouring at Asbury University two weeks ago. Several of our Go Team members recently stood at Samford University, as students flocked to the chapel to pray, worship, cry, and repent into the wee hours of the morning.
What happens next?
Asbury's president Dr. Brown addresses the revival attendees with a challenge and a commissioning. Nick Hall with Pulse Movement, booked Rupp Arena on the University of Kentucky's campus to facilitate sending students into the harvest and impacting their communities. We too are poised to disciple, train, and send into the nations of the world these on fire students, equipped with the hope of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Watch Dr. Brown's speech here:
We hope you will continue to pray and take your place to advance the Gospel with continual prayer for these students and campuses. Open your home, classroom, and church for this generation to seek God. They are hungry.
Recently we re-read this poem by Pete Greig, "The Vision" and wanted to post it in this blog. It feels as if it was written yesterday.
"In 2001, The Vision was published in a magazine called ‘The Way' which circulates to a staggering number of 100,000 underground churches in China. The very same week these words were quoted by tens of thousands of young people at an event named ‘The Call’ in Washington DC."
"Somehow the words scrawled on a prayer room wall had taken on a life of their own. The Vision had become a personal mission-statement for many – a generational call to a living, impacting faith in Jesus." - https://www.24-7prayer.com/about/about-us/the-vision/
What is the vision ?
The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day it's soldiers choose to lose that they might one day win the great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground
And the army is disciplined.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs.
Who can stop them ?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed? Can fear scare them or death kill them ?
And the generation prays like a dying man with groans beyond talking, with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cozy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs. Laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mold them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.
On the outside? They hardly care. They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centers.
Don't you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdos! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.
How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God. My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D. And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from heroes of the faith, from Jesus Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
And that, my friend, is 100% Guaranteed.
(Greig wrote Red Moon Rising in 2015, but feels as if it was written this week.)
If you are reading this right now consider, God may be calling you right now to say yes to missions. Perhaps this is your moment to put your faith in action. Sign up for the next Discipleship Training School or Second Level Training.
