Downpour

Matthew Dahlitz

We were a little frustrated to say the least. We were in this run-down place of no particular interest, in the west of Kenya. My adventurous companions Paul, Marty, and myself (Matt) were following the leading of the Spirit in an African safari to see the power of God at work. We were halfway through our two week adventure. Although we had seen the deliverance of a tormented Maasai Warrior and a boy healed, we were expecting something on a grander scale. Our prophetic team at home were praying hard and feeding us a constant stream of words via SMS and we knew there had to be more that we had experienced so far. On the shore of Lake Victoria we asked the Holy Spirit “where to now?” On the map laid out before us a little insignificant place called Kisii stood out. If we survive the bus ride, only those who have ventured to Africa would understand, the heavens may just open up at Kisii.

We arrived just as thunderstorm broke over the little town. Fully loaded with a backpacks we hurried down the main street looking for shelter. A demoniac tracking beside us, growling unintelligible demands heightened the sense that we had entered a dark place. We found an eating place to shelter in, broke our short fast with communion, and prayed for breakthrough.

Our faithful intercessors at home had sent us a word about a man named Ken and something wrong with his leg. That evening we found ourselves in hot pursuit of a man on crutches racing away down a back alley. His name was Ken and we prayed for his leg that had been crippled though a car accident. We prayed violently and passionately, expected the leg to be restored immediately, but nothing seemingly happened. Ken hopped off into the darkness probably wondering what had just happened.

The next day, packed and ready to leave, we went for a last walk though the town looking for any opportunity to pray for someone. Finally we stopped on a street corner to bless a local pastor who had been with us that morning. A crowd started to gather, so Paul shouted out “Does anyone need a miracle?” An old man came forward and received his healing. The crowd grew. Paul encouraged the old man to testify to the crowd what Jesus had just done for him. Beaming, the old man told the crowd that Jesus had just healed him and the people responded with cheers. Then suddenly the place just exploded! Much like the thunderstorm the day before, we found our-selves in the middle of a downpour of glory. People came from every direction to see the spectacle and get their miracle. We broke up and took different areas of the street corner, crowds pressing around each of us; we started laying hands on an enthusiastic crowd. Eyes improved, pain went, mobility was restored, demons left. For three hours we saw God move in a spectacular way. It was just like a scene out of the Book of Acts. This is what we had been expecting, yet we were still taken by surprise when it happened and were in total awe of what God was doing. The crowd pursued us as we made our way to the bus depot. In hindsight we should have stayed, but we were young players in the glory zone. We were just starting to learn how to live on this side of the cross.