A Pentecostal Time for Us All

I sit in an examination room of Methodist Hospital, receiving my “invasion” treatment to diminish my CLL – leukemia side as the doctor outlines the new side effects possible if I switch to an old line chemical approach.
 
I listen closely, and am apprehensive, as I think of the number of brave women I know and love who have endured excruciating side effects from chemotherapy. Would it be the same, or any different? He hints that this would be much milder. Kind of a “not to worry” sort of assurance. I do worry, but I’m told it would be different.
 
It comes up against the question “How long do we get?” And I am 91 never having expected to come this far alive.
 
And now there seems so much to live for. We are still part of our children’s lives and have so much we can do to help them.
 
And this pandemic summer with the outbreak of killing and rioting and burning has brought new impetus for even us old folks to do what we can to bring healing in the human community, especially between us and our black neighbors. Like the meetings we’ve begun with our so-modest “Christian Visitors” program in which our first group sharing of worship was with our new friends at Zion Baptist Church. We can still do something. And I find myself very much wanting to stay alive for that.
 
The young doctor will explore the possibilities – which may even make some current limitations be overcome, some return of strength made possible. We shall see. And pray.
 
As if the present state of things could be improved, I would long to be able to claim that for my life with Molly and our family, our church, our healing mission through the Pilgrim Center needed now and here more than ever before.
 
After all, my own deepest sense after the wind and fire of the burning and looting that followed the George Floyd death, was that this all was a signal, a signal from heaven – a Pentecostal sign of revival coming, of spiritual changes coming, of repentance and new beginnings between God’s people was imminent, already happening. A signal that it is time to move: To get serious. To take steps. To pray. To reach out. To risk.
 
And so we are doing it. Molly went to her knees repenting and asking forgiveness at a time of prayer at Zion Church last Sunday – just like in our retreats in Africa.
 
When the pastor, preaching powerfully and acknowledging his own sin and coming back to Christ, came down and sat weeping on the steps before the pulpit, Molly pushed me, and said, “Go up and sit with him and pray with him!” – The Spirit speaking to me through my wife. Tears were everywhere, prayers were calling out, it was revival, right there in front of us.
 
And this Sunday our two teams will come together again – eat lunch, and pray, and talk, and seek the Spirit – under the tent, outside, at the Hilltop Restaurant.
 
Maybe it is the Time, the fullness of time, the Kairos that God is bringing to the people in Minneapolis to dare to take a chance on Him, and RISK FOR REVIVAL, for AWAKENING in our time, in our day.
 
Maybe God is calling us all to live in a new way, because this is already a New Day made ready by Him.
 
Let us see what will be, in His Day, using us all as we dare to risk decorum and DO A NEW THING!
 
Something worth living for! Bless you!
Arthur