Revival, Fire, and the Glory of Christ

By Dylan Verdun Sullivan
As I get ready for Bible college tomorrow and think about the week ahead, I find myself filled with a deep sense of anticipation. There is something about stepping into a new week of study, prayer, and time among the people of God that stirs something inside my heart. I cannot help but feel excited about what the Lord is doing—not only in my own life, but in the church more broadly.
There is a quiet conviction that has never left me since my conversion. It is something that has followed me through every season of my life, through suffering, through healing, through moments of doubt and moments of great clarity. It is the longing to see people transformed by the blood-stained cross of Jesus Christ.
That longing is not a passing emotion.
It is something that sits at the very centre of my heart.
The gospel and the glory of God have become the heartbeat of everything I do. Whether I am writing, studying, reflecting, or simply sitting quietly with my Bible open in the morning, there is a deep desire within me to see Christ lifted high and His saving power made known.
And if I am honest, the deepest cry of my heart is this:
I want to see revival.
Not revival in the sense of spectacle or hype.
Not revival that revolves around personalities or platforms.
But revival that centres entirely on Jesus Christ and the transforming power of the gospel.
The kind of revival where hearts are pierced by the truth of the cross.
Where people fall under conviction of sin.
Where repentance becomes real and lives are genuinely changed.
Where the presence of God is no longer treated as a distant idea but as a living reality.
That longing has only grown stronger as I have continued reading a book that has been occupying my thoughts recently. The book is Signs and Wonders God Wrought in the Ministry for Forty Years by Maria Woodworth-Etter.
As I read and pray over its pages, I cannot help but find myself in awe of what Jesus did at the turn of the twentieth century through someone who, by her own description, felt deeply inadequate and broken.
Maria Woodworth-Etter was not the type of person most people would expect to become a revivalist. She endured immense personal suffering throughout her life. She experienced loss, hardship, criticism, and intense opposition from both secular critics and religious leaders.
Yet in the midst of that brokenness, something extraordinary happened.
God used her.
Her meetings were often marked by deep conviction of sin and moments where people became overwhelmed by the sense of God’s presence. Observers described individuals falling to the ground under what they believed was the power of the Holy Spirit, remaining still for extended periods of prayer and reflection.
But what strikes me most as I read her writing is not the unusual manifestations people reported.
What strikes me is her constant focus on Jesus.
Again and again she points people back to the cross.
Again and again she emphasises repentance, holiness, and surrender to Christ.
Again and again she reminds her readers that revival does not come through human effort, clever methods, or charismatic personalities.
Revival comes when the Spirit of God awakens people to the reality of Jesus.
And that truth brings us back to the very beginning of the church itself.
When we talk about revival, we cannot start with church history.
We must begin with Scripture.
The clearest and most powerful example of revival in the entire Bible occurs in the Book of Acts on the Day of Pentecost.
Before Pentecost, the disciples were waiting.
Jesus had already risen from the dead. He had appeared to His followers and taught them about the kingdom of God. Before ascending to the Father, He gave them a promise.
“You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8).
They did not yet fully understand what that promise would mean.
But they waited.
They prayed.
They gathered together.
And then Pentecost came.
Acts chapter two describes a moment that changed the course of history. Suddenly there came a sound from heaven like a rushing mighty wind. Tongues like fire appeared and rested upon the believers, and they were filled with the Holy Spirit.
This was not merely an emotional experience.
It was the birth of the church.
Immediately after this moment, Peter stood and preached the gospel. He proclaimed the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He declared that the one whom people had crucified had been raised and exalted as Lord and Messiah.
The response was extraordinary.
Scripture tells us that the people listening were “cut to the heart.”
They cried out and asked what they should do.
Peter’s response was simple and direct:
“Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins.”
And that day thousands of people turned to Christ.
That is revival in its purest form.
The Spirit of God moves.
The gospel is proclaimed.
Hearts are pierced.
People repent.
Lives are transformed.
Everything else flows from that.
Throughout church history there have been moments when something like this has occurred again. Seasons when the church has been stirred out of spiritual complacency and awakened to the reality of Christ.
But every genuine revival shares the same foundation.
Jesus is central.
The gospel is proclaimed clearly.
And the Holy Spirit moves in the hearts of people.
That is why figures like Maria Woodworth-Etter are worth remembering, not because they themselves were the source of revival, but because they were vessels through whom God chose to work.
She never claimed revival belonged to her.
She believed revival belonged to God.
And that perspective is essential.
Because the moment revival becomes about personalities, it begins to lose its centre.
Revival belongs to Christ.
Revival belongs to the Spirit.
Revival belongs to the God who alone has the power to awaken human hearts.
As I prepare for Bible college tomorrow and think about the week ahead, these thoughts sit heavily on my mind.
Studying theology is important.
Learning the Scriptures deeply is essential.
But none of that replaces the need for the living presence of God.
Knowledge alone cannot transform a heart.
Only the Spirit of God can do that.
And so the cry that rises from my heart remains the same.
Lord, let the gospel be proclaimed.
Let Christ be lifted high.
Let the cross be seen for what it truly is the place where sin was defeated and mercy was poured out.
And if it pleases You, bring revival again.
Not revival built on human enthusiasm.
But revival born from repentance, humility, and a renewed hunger for Your presence.
Because when the Spirit of God moves and Jesus is truly seen, everything begins to change.
Hearts soften.
Lives are transformed.
Communities are renewed.
And the glory of God becomes visible once again among His people.
That is the kind of revival my heart longs to see.
The kind that begins, just as it did on the Day of Pentecost, with the fire of God and the proclamation of the risen Christ.

About the Author

Dylan Verdun Sullivan is the founder of Refined by Fire Press and an Australian author indexed in the National Library. As a Level 7 Local Guide with over 1.2M views on Google Maps, he documents the intersection of faith, recovery, and the "light in the mundane."

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