I remember this movie being a lot better. And with more suspensful timings. And less thatch-roof cottages. Wait.

Seriously, wait. What has even been happening? I am all out on a limb. A long, swangy limb that’s about to finally snap off. I’ve been immersed in avoidance I think on some level. Reality evasion. I sit, and cry and ask myself, “Why does my reality still require evasion?” Lord, you quantify my reality. You make it worth living.

But seriously. My head is all muffins. Fast times in East Texas. Days into days. I lost all sense of time. I was slapped in the face and kissed on the lips. I was blown back by a consuming fire. Overtaken. The bomb squad member that couldn’t run fast enough. I fly away. They use the same yell in every movie.

A voice cried out in the wilderness and said, “Revival?” But nobody heard. Nobody saw, because it was totally out of their league. The voice became a howl. A wolf silhouettes the moon. Eclipses the Son. But only for a minute. Everybody get mixed up about revival. Go on, freak out. Dance wildly. I see revival in the faces of the innocent. Tiny hands grip cups running over. Spilling blood upon the landscape. C’mon, take a bath.

What is Revival, really? Certainly not something to be planned. Let’s erect a structure to house it. Let’s call it down when the time is right. Certainly God has other plans. Better ones. In reality it’s movement. A spiritual nuke blast. We suckle the fallout like jerky. Manna from Heaven, three distinct flavors. Miracles with tiny eyes. Little pools of life.

I met a new favorite. I wonder what that means.