Sunday, July 24, 2016


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.

                        --Monty Wheeler

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