In 1906 one of the greatest revivals took place in Los Angeles, California. It was called the Azuza Street Revival and it lasted for 10 years. The Holy Spirit moved mightily bringing miracles, signs and wonders and tongues. It was the start of the pentecostal movement and led to the planting of hundreds of churches. I’ve been to one or two revivals, myself, and there’s nothing like it.
We’ve been talking about revival amongst our staff at church. One of our lead pastors, Ashley, has felt a strong urging from God to pray for revival. Not the Azuza-kind of revival, but a movement that takes people deep into the heart and spirit of God. Roots going down and changing lives in a way that we might not ever see. But its influence will, one day, be unmistakable.
Revival. It’s an exciting word in the church world, but for me, that word causes me to pause and shudder. Because I’ve recently watched it in the physical world.
A few months back an ambulance had to be called for Eva. Her breathing had slowed to a life threatening pace and paramedics were called in to revive her, to bring oxygen to her lungs, to help her breathe. I stood in the hospital room while I watched them intubate her. A horrific sight for me, but one in which it was absolutely necessary in order to sustain her life. This was followed by a tracheotomy which allowed her to breathe more easily and provide oxygen support as needed.
I have watched both spiritual and physical revival, and they’re both equally miraculous and life changing. But it’s what happens after the revival that is absolutely crucial. When they got Eva stabilized, they didn’t stop there. The doctors and Dugan and Linds then began a conversation about what comes next, in order for Eva to live a full and thriving life beyond her revival.
So wouldn’t the same be true with God? Once I’ve been revived, breathing in the spirit of God, what then? How do I sustain the moment? How do I live in revivalness?
Well, it occurred to me this week that Jesus answered that question. He said, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” In order to breathe fully, to live in revivalness, I must stay connected to my life source. And when I don’t, like Eva, I’m in a bit of trouble.
One of the indicators that Eva is in need of oxygen is her heart rate. When it begins to rise and stay there, we know that she is working extra hard to breathe. So she gets connected to oxygen. And immediately her heart rate goes down and her breathing comes easily.
Which got me thinking, what does my heart rate do when I am disconnected from the vine? What would a monitor show when I’m holding onto unforgiveness, gossipping, rolling my eyes in judgment, making a snappy retort? I imagine that my heart rate would be high. And my breathing a bit shallow. And probably far more often and lengthier that I care to admit. And so, as a result, I’ve become accustomed to living my life with ongoing shortness of breath.
But that’s not how to live. It’s not how to bear fruit or make a difference in my world. The only way to truly live and breathe is through my connection, my attachment to the vine. To breathe without it is simply a waste of breath.
So, I’m asking God to be my heart monitor, to help me regulate and remain attached. So that my moment of revival is not lost or forgotten, but as Ashley is praying for us and for our church, I’m asking God to do whatever it takes for me, for us, to live in revivalness.
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