When Revival Starts in Your Own Rocking Chair
Well, come on through that ol’ gate, friend, and pull yourself a good chair up close before the coffee gets too cold and that ol’ crow up there in the pecan tree starts to preachin’ louder than the rest of us. We can get mighty concerned about everybody else needing revival. The church plum needs it. The country sho’-nuff’ needs it. The neighbors surely need it. Before long we’re pointin’ fingers faster than an ol’ rooster scratchin’ gravel, and the Lord may be quietly askin’, “What about your heart?”
That’s where Jonah’s story gets real interestin’.
God told Jonah to go to Nineveh. Jonah promptly headed the other direction, which plum worked out for ol’ Jonah about as well as hidin’ from a bloodhound dog behind a screen door. After a storm, a great big ol’ fish, and some mighty serious time to reconsider his travel plans, Jonah surrendered.
Then God downright used him.
Jonah 3:4–5 tells us Jonah plum preached God’s warning, and Nineveh responded. The people sho’-nuff’ believed God, fasted, and repented. An entire city was downright awakened, but first God had dealt with the reluctant preacher carryin’ the message.
Sometimes we want God to change everybody around us while He’s tryin’ to change somethin’ right on the inside of us.
That’s why Psalm 85:6 is such a powerful prayer when it asks, “Will You not revive us again?” Revival ain’t merely louder worship or fuller church pews. It’s a heart wakin’ up to God again.
And here’s another beautiful promise in James 4:8, which says, “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” Before we ask God to move across a nation, we might begin by first askin’ Him to move across the few inches between our head and our heart.
Father, begin Your renewing work in me. Show me anything I have excused, ignored, or allowed to grow cold. Give me a tender heart, willing obedience, and a fresh hunger for Your presence. Let any revival I pray for elsewhere begin first inside me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Now then, head right on back into the remaining situations still waitin’ in your day, friend, but don’t you git to spendin’ it inspectin’ everybody else’s spiritual garden. You’ve gotta be pullin’ your own weeds first. One lil’ ol’ creek revived by fresh water can eventually bless a whole big valley. One lil’ ol’ glowin’ lantern lit in a dark barn can help everybody to find the door. And one single heart that’s been fully surrendered to God can become the very beginnin’ of somethin’ far bigger than itself.
With joy,
Gwen
