Revival is a normal word. We’re not speaking of some monstrous experience alien to the mind of God. Revival is a normal word and ought to be the normal life of the church. What would you think of a father who said of his children, “My children are up for two weeks in the year, but the rest of the time they’re sick in bed. But do not worry, after the passing of another year, my children will be up again for two or three weeks, maybe.” What would you think? That would be the most abnormal kind of a life that a man could describe or think of for his children: that for the weeks and the weeks and the months of the year they’re sick, then for maybe two weeks they’re well. It is no different with the church. For us to be revived two weeks in a year, then the rest of the time we’re phlegmatic, and lethargic, and dead, and listless, and lifeless and sterile, and barren, and unfruitful, is of all things abnormal. Revival is a normal word.
Revival ought to be the expected life in the family and among the children of God. Every service ought to be a revival service. Every day ought to be a soul-winning day. Every time we gather together it ought to be a hallelujah and glorious fellowship in the Lord. Revival is no extraneous word or far-fetched word; revival is a normal word and ought to characterize the full abounding overflowing life of the people of the Lord. We’re not announcing some unusual thing, nor are we reaching after some monstrous experience; it is just that the tides of the glory of the Lord might overflow, might come in, that we might be lifted nearer and closer, that we might sing a little oftener, and pray a little more earnestly, and that we might seek these who are lost a little more zealously and fervently, and that God might have us especially in these days of appeal. “O Lord, wilt Thou not revive Thy work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make it known” [Habakkuk 3:2].
This is revival: the spirit of contrition and confession on the part of God’s people. “O Lord, forgive me my pride and my unfruitfulness, and the barrenness and sterility of my life. O Lord, forgive my lack of concern, my hard and unburdened heart. O God, I’m not what I ought to be; I’m not what I can be. O God, remember me.” That is revival: maybe crying because we can’t cry, maybe weeping because we can’t weep, maybe burdened because we’re not burdened, maybe full of care because we don’t care, maybe praying because we can’t pray.
Adapted from “This Is Revival” W.A. Criswell
