Jamaica’s seeping perversion, A cry for Revival by Denise N. Fyffe

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I carry a distress that only grows as I experience this world every day of my life. It is saddening to see through my eyes the decay and immoral ineptitude that lies at the depths of the human heart. We may not be as bad as some, but we are certainly worse off than most. Day to day our youth are ferreted down the mouse holes of hell, with no care, no recognition of the loss they are experiencing and I am saddened.

My prayer is that this one nation, under God, would begin to claim and share and desire a revival for our youths. Who is crying for our youths? Who is crying for our babes, rotten before they can even form a proper sentence? My heart cries out for our youths.

Who is crying for our youths? Who is crying for our babes, rotten before they can even form a proper sentence? My heart cries out for our youths.

Who is crying for our babes, rotten before they can even form a proper sentence? My heart cries out for our youths.

My heart cries out for them. They deserve to be deprived of carnality and sexuality and weed and Vybz Kartel’s music and skinny jeans worn on their knees rather than their waists. They deserve to be deprived of all that.

They deserve to be told to do homework after school and not hang out on the street corner.

They deserve to be cooked a meal and not forced to go look it..wash the car windscreen on every major intersection.

They deserve to be free of adult worries and play simple-sinless games on the weekend; not to ‘bumflick’ off of sound system boxes and try to catch the video light at every dance or session.

They deserve parents who actually care about their wellbeing and future. They deserve parents who will make sure that they wear the proper uniform to school and show up on parents day and hold them to a high standard; not parents who would abuse them with a curse word from every letter of the alphabet. The curse. The generational curse of speaking ill of your child’s future, desecrating that future.

They deserve parents who will make sure that they wear the proper uniform to school and show up on parents day and hold them to a high standard; not parents who would abuse them with a curse word from every letter of the alphabet. The curse. The generational curse of speaking ill of your child’s future, desecrating that future.

The curse. The generational curse of speaking ill of your child’s future, desecrating that future.

Jamaica. Land of a church on every corner.

Jamaica. The Israel of the West.

Jamaica. Land where prayer warriors are ‘un-girded’ and play at wearing armour they don’t even possess.

Jamaica.

Too long have the faithful carried a burden meant for many and not for few.

Too long have pastors dipped in the shallow waters of faith and not dived into the deep end of the Almighty.

Too long have we traded God’s word for stale daily bread.

Too long.

Now, because of that, many shall not survive the perversion unless the few cry out for revival.

Revival, a miraculous intervention by God that will turn Jamaica on her heels and the devil on his head.

The kind of revival that will birth prophets and apostles and evangelists and kill deceivers and idol worship and false prophets.

Revival vs. perversion. Now that is a battle of our time that I would want to see and know that God has already won it.

Revival not perversion. Not babies having babies. Not grown men impregnating 11-year-olds. Not mothers selling their daughters into prostitution, but Revival.

Whoa be unto those who are on the wrong side in the end and whoa be to those who could have planted the seed, which would have grown into the tree to save them.

Revival. Jamaica needs a revival.

Pray.

 

 

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