The Backstory of Reverend J.D. King

Who can escape the allure of a good story, particularly a story that describes the works of God in days past? A steady diet of camp meeting miracle testimonies and revival stories as a child growing up in old-time southern Pentecost certainly stirred my imagination. I remember hearing tales of limbs being straightened, of crippled legs being strengthened, and frightening accounts of demons being cast out of the dark corners of people's lives.

As you can probably imagine, most of these stories were told many times. In doing so, they became carefully weaved into the very fabric of my being. Through them, I began to experience a hunger to see the miraculous.

Yet, what would have happened if I had seen miracles similar to the ones I had heard in the stories? The possibility of that happening was something completely foreign to me at that period of my life. Nevertheless, one day I would be violently confronted and required to respond to God's dynamic power.

Pithy, Poignant Preachers

I also remember sitting on old wooden pews throughout Northwest Arkansas. I would often listen to legendary preachers rhythmically sweat and sway to the cadence of their sermon. They could bring us to a place where emotions were raging, voices were shouting, and everyone could feel this certain anticipation that would hold any crowd on the edge of their seat.

When the service reached an almost explosive moment, the preacher would suddenly pause. When the congregation finally became silent, the preacher's powerful voice shattered the silence with a vivid tale of an old-time revival meeting.

He would describe tent meetings where hundreds of people were saved. He told magnificent stories of healing and deliverance. His words brought us into the world of the miraculous.

Through the stories, we felt a connection to the saints that had come before. As all of the congregation joined into to a stirring rendition of "Revive us again," many of us felt sure that revival would soon come. But what would have happened if revival had really come? What if God chose to cast away our godless religion and traditions that had been slowly swallowing our congregation whole? Would we have known that it was God? Would we have accepted that as revival?

Disappointing Encounters

After several years of stumbling, I finally made a commitment to the Lord. Shortly thereafter, I enrolled in Bible College.

Waking up each morning at the crack of dawn, I would sit down on cold metal chairs and listen to professors articulate and pontificate on history, scripture, and ministerial ethics.

I distinctly remember an experience I had in one particular class. We began to talk about revival and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Much of the talk was centered upon the events that inaugurated the Pentecostal movement.

The gripping conversation in this history class began with the tragic story of John Alexander Dowie and his healing homes outside of Chicago, Illinois. From there we progressed to the subject of Topeka, Kansas and the outpouring that occurred there in 1901 under the ministry of Charles Fox Parham. Finally, we began to discuss the Azusa Street Revival that began in Los Angeles, California, under the ministry of William Seymour in 1906.

As our spirited discussion drew to a conclusion, something occurred to me. These incidents were similar to what I had experienced as a child. I had gone off to school in order to encounter the presence God. However, instead of experiencing the presence of God, I was handed a bunch of old, dusty stories.

What would my classmates and I have done if God began to manifest his power and glory in the midst of the classroom? It is easy to read about it on a page, but what happens when you are personally confronted with the piercing reality of revival?

A Stirring Confrontation

I never thought that I would live to see the day when revival would truly come. Who would have imagined that God would once again bring dynamic signs and wonders in the midst of the Church? Nevertheless, in the late 1990's the presence of God began to sweep across our nation.

With my background and experience, one would think that I would have been ready to experience a powerful move of God, but I was not. As much as I would like to tell you that I grabbed a hold of revival, the unfortunate truth is that I totally rejected it.

While finishing my second year of Bible College, I found myself growing more concerned with theological concepts and doctrines than my personal Spiritual condition. I had bought into the Greco-Roman worldview that places more emphasis on the acquisition of knowledge than on relationships. Consequently, I began to see this burgeoning revival movement as a threat to my way of life and my ecclesiastical future.

Coming face to face with the throes of revival, I did not recognize it for what it really was. I suppose I was much like G. Campbell Morgan, the great European Biblical expositor, who noted that the Azusa Street Revival was, "the last vomit of Satan."

Feeling like I was in the unique possession of truth, I was unwilling to allow anything into my life that might challenge that perception. I had firmly determined my destiny and I was not going to allow anything to stand in my way.

Nevertheless, God has a unique way of shattering our presuppositions and pettiness. Soon my well-ordered world would come crashing in after confronted with the explosive advance of the Holy Spirit in Smithton, Missouri.

An Experience of Revival

The revival known as the "Smithton Outpouring" emerged on the evening of March 24, 1996, after the Spirit of God swept into congregation in the cornfields of Central Missouri.

Soon I, like the thousands from fifty states and seventy nations, journeyed to this revival in the heart of the Missouri wilderness. After sitting through a deeply moving service, I was given a chance to respond to Lord.

As they opened up a special time of ministry, I reluctantly made my way to the front. I wasn't really sure what I was doing there. I had already given my life to Jesus and had been baptized in the Holy Spirit. What more did a Christian need?

As the glorious waves of the presence of God washed over me, I found myself in the midst of the greatest personal upheaval I had ever known. A metamorphosis is seldom pretty.

In my heart and spirit, I was immediately able to recognize the hand of the Lord was at work. Nevertheless, intellectually I was very uncomfortable. I began to cry out with all of my strength, "Lord, why is there a disconnect? Why am I unable to receive something that is so clearly being blessed by You? Help me to understand!"

As I stood there in the presence and power of God, He began to show me that inherited religious biases and the ways of men were hindering my ascent. As I basked in the light of this Damascus Road experience, I knew that my entire life was about to be changed.

Writing My Own Story

Finally, after years of hearing about the experiences of my grandfather, the tent evangelists and pioneers of the Pentecostal movement, I finally had an opportunity to experience the miraculous power of God for myself. This experience wasn't confined to a page or shrouded in a distant reflection. It was something that I had personally "seen and heard."

I could feel a fire burning in the very depths of my soul. I finally understood what John Wesley meant when he wrote, "I felt my heart strangely warmed." Revival lifted me up from the pit and sat my feet upon the rock.

In the midst of my wilderness wandering I had, at last, journeyed through the dark night of the soul. I could join with my grandfather and numerous men who had gone before in affirming the glorious God of revival. At last I had my own story to tell.