THE GREAT OUT-POURING

Like waters, nations rise to fall.

As nations answer Satan’s call,

Naught might live in a dried up flow

Of a nation lost

Where politicians, like the buzzard,

Feed on the decay of a nation’s heart,

Telling man that they have a plan

To save

Then set themselves apart.

And foolish man—

Too arrogant to see his fate—

Perchance has waited far too late.

But then perhaps…

One hope still lies—the only one—

In the Holy Ghost revival.

Hope for our eternity’s

In those who find revival.

With hands raised up to God on High,

Those who believe send up the cry,

“Let us know revival!”

In the great out-pouring of the Holy Ghost,

Those who oppose will not stand

Against the Mighty One’s command,

And we shall find revival.

It comes.

Begins, perhaps, with a single voice

And sweeps like a wave or ocean’s tide

O’er a sunbaked shore

Through one church, a town, then nation-wide

And thus begins revival.

Those who heed deceivers’ lies

Cannot ebb a river’s flow,

Cannot stop the winds that blow,

Cannot stem the ocean’s tide

As revival lights the darkest waters.

Dried up rivers rage and oceans swell;

“Hosanna!” rises from the well

Of those who see the tattered veil,

And Jesus says, “I come.”

Lord, I pray, in this dark day,

To be washed in Your Light of revival.

Amen.

                        --Monty Wheeler