tsunami by VegasStreetProphet

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      Tsunami
      David Davenport
      (Revised/Updated October 1, 2004)
      [Dear Bill:

      I trust this note finds you abounding in peace, joy, and affirmation of the "work of your hands." This
      despite present global turmoil.

      A few years ago you posted one of my essays entitled, Tsunami. This essay was originally posted by
      The Apostolic-Prophetic Resource as well as Christian Surfer's International about the same time
      frame.

      Nearly two months ago I felt strongly compelled to add-to, update and revise the original essay, and to
      re-circulate it, which I did--to fellow surfers around the globe.

      As you might imagine, as I then watched the events unfold regarding the massive Tsunami's in Asia, I
      became emotionally numb--for several hours. I began to receive emails from those who had read my
      most recent reissue of Tsunami. Following these responses, I felt it would severe the Body abroad to
      begin to submit this word to venues such as yours.

      I have attached the copy of Tsunami that I re-circulated in early October (10/01/04). I do believe it will
      speak timely relevance to many, in light of what transpired a few days ago.

      On a related note; it is very interesting to consider that exactly one year prior (12/26/2003) a massive
      earthquake killed 26,000 in Bam, Iran. These two events were just 58 minutes from being precisely
      one year apart (00:58AM versus 01:56AM)--both on the 26th of December.

      Sincerely,
      David Davenport]


      Tsunami
      David Davenport

              “Those who go down to the sea in ships,
              Who do business on great waters,
              They see the works of the Lord,
              And His wonders in the deep.
              For He commands and raises the stormy
              wind,
              Which lifts up the waves of the sea.
              They mount up to the heavens,
              They go down again to the depths;”
                Psalm 107:23-26(a)

      Recently I spent a full day surfing the Folly Beach "Washout" (outskirts of Charleston, South
      Carolina—my hometown). I usually limit my water-time to two hours or so, every few days. Yet on this
      day the waves were perfect—glassy, head-high, and peeling left and right, forming the makings of the
      oft-allusive tube.

      I receive much spiritual renewal and revelation while sitting on my board between sets, especially at
      sunrise as the yellow-orange tip of the sun begins to peek over the horizon. The Lord visits me during
      these times in unique ways.
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      This brand of meeting between He and I began back in my Navy days, twenty five years ago, wherein I
      often manned the helm (steering wheel, on the bridge of the ship) 'round the clock, while underway. It
      was a grueling schedule. Often times the only ingredient that kept me awake in the midst of my watch
      at the helm, was that of the terror generated by storm swells that surpassed 65 feet at times. On
      several occasions during such storms in the North Atlantic, our ship pitched into 45 degree rolls, at
      which point my hands were no longer on the helm, rather they were tightly clasping an overhead
      “monkey bar” while my feet dangled a few inches above the deck.

      Deep in the night, when all I could hear was the low drone of the engines below, as well as the glassy
      wake peeling from the hull of the ship, the Lord would visit me and beckon me to Him.

      Over the years since then, and largely through roughly twenty-five years of surfing activity, He
      continues to flood my senses with prophetic analogies while in and on the water.

      Recently I received the most vivid wave-dream of my life. I have actually been receiving such dreams
      and visions for many years. But this dream was so vivid and gripping that I was still responding to the
      dream as I awakened.

      A prelude to the sharing of this dream; I wish to allude to a timely excerpt of scripture. Interestingly
      enough it is found in the Book of Job. It reads as follows:

      “God may speak in one way, or in another, yet man does not perceive it. In a dream, in a
      vision of the night, when deep sleep falls upon men, while slumbering on their beds, then He
      opens the ears of men, and seals their instruction” (Job 33:14-16).

      Clearly there is not much commentary necessary for this excerpt of scripture, to in turn convince the
      reader that God does in fact, and quite often, choose to speak to us—through dreams, for there is no
      subsequent point in scripture that indicates that He has ceased to speak to us in this way.

      I once engaged in an exhaustive exegetical study of the frequency of dreams throughout scripture. I
      was overwhelmed not only by the frequency in which dreams are found in scripture, but also by the
      seriousness with which the dream recipients approached the interpretation of such.

      In the dream in question, I had been surfing six to eight foot waves. Just as I had paddled back to the
      beach for a break, I looked back to see a most beautiful and majestic set of enormous waves heading
      rapidly toward shore. What shocked me about these waves was not only their perfect symmetry and
      beauty, but that they were going to break onshore and wipe out roughly one hundred surfers who
      stood still in amazement, transfixed upon the approaching waves.

      The word I believe I heard whispered to me by the Holy Spirit just as I awakened from this dream, was:
      "It's coming."

      Nearly as ancient as the language itself, the Japanese word “tsunami” is that of two words combined:
      “tsu” (harbor) and “nami” (wave). The word therefore means literally, “harbor wave.”

      Tsunamis are generated by substantial seismic activity often beneath the ocean’s surface, an
      occurrence known as a seaquake. Sub-surface volcanic activity as well as earthquakes can also
      produce tsunamis. Tsunamis can conceivably travel upwards to 550 miles per hour beneath the
      surface of the water, losing speed as they approach land, yet mounting in wave height to 100 feet or
      greater upon impact.

      History reveals numerous accounts of towering tsunamis that have destroyed entire coastal
      communities. One of the oldest accounts of record (hand written, on parchment) dates back to 365
      AD, recorded by the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, as that which occurred on an early morning in
      Alexandria Egypt.
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      On this day a massive earthquake shook the entire city. The earthquake toppled hundreds of
      buildings. Shortly following the earthquake, the ocean shore alarmingly retreated as far as the eye
      could see. In a state of shock following the earthquake, hundreds of people staggered toward the
      beach to witness a surreal display as thousands of enormous sea creatures lay flailing about on the
      miry ocean floor, abandoned by the watery home they knew only a short time previous. Hundreds of
      onlookers made their way out and into the mire, to touch with their bare hands the shocking display of
      stranded sea life. Shortly following, and within a timeframe that was not specified, a tsunami
      appeared on the horizon and raged toward shore. The wave completely enveloped not only the
      hundreds of ocean-bottom explorers, yet nearly destroyed the entire city of Alexandria, leaving a death
      toll of an estimated 50,000 people in its path. It is estimated that by the time the tsunami reached the
      Alexandrian shore it towered at 150 feet—or larger. Many large seagoing vessels were later found a
      number of miles inland, with some resting atop buildings. Archeological research within the 20th
      century has time and again confirmed the nearly unbelievable proportions of Marcellinus’ report, as
      fact.

      In my brief lifetime I have observed an unyielding pattern between natural events and subsequent
      spiritual activity. I now harbor no question as to the theory that most natural phenomenon, to certainly
      include natural disasters of catastrophic proportions, are indeed that designed to gain the attention of
      mankind, and do in fact contain spiritual repercussions that reverberate in the form of figurative wave
      upon wave of Kingdom activity—on earth (i.e., “…on earth, as it is in heaven…”).

      At this point the reader may find it sobering to know that at the time the devastating tsunami hit
      Alexandria Egypt in 365 AD, the city had become a celebrated host of the region’s largest
      concentration of cosmological teachers of philosophy, astrology, sorcery and atheism.

      On Good Friday, March 27, 1965 at 5:36PM, an earthquake which to date is the largest recorded in
      North America, measuring 9.2 on the Richter scale, hit just west of Valdez along the Alaskan coast.
      Not long following, a series of waves measuring 90 feet in height pummeled the coastline destroying
      countless boats, homes and shanty businesses. What many mariners and oceanographic
      researchers do not know to date, is that shortly following, countless numbers of small rural churches
      throughout the region were consumed in a fiery visitation of the Holy Spirit; a visitation which quickly
      rolled like lava through Oregon and into California, ultimately making its way into southern California to
      rest upon a small Episcopal church in Van Nuys. As it did so, it lit a fire under an Episcopal rector
      named Dennis Bennett. The annals of contemporary church history now yield that Bennett gave birth to
      what is referred to as the Charismatic Movement or Charismatic Renewal—which quickly swept the
      nation. This movement, within the context of a study of church history in the United States within the
      20th century, is largely considered the “Second Wave” of significant Holy Spirit visitation (sandwiched
      between the Azusa St. Revival of the early 1900s, and the outpouring of signs and wonders in and
      through the Vineyard movement, which began to impact nationally and beyond, in the early 1980s).

      In the late 70’s, a period that also paralleled my late teenage years (I was born in 1960), a number of
      storms generating large waves pummeled the California coastline. The storms damaged many
      beautiful fishing piers that had colorful and wonderful histories to them. Having been raised in
      Southern California, I personally surfed below, next to, and even through a number of these piers.

      During one such storm, I believe it was 1977, my beloved Huntington Beach pier was hammered, and
      a sizeable end-section of the pier was destroyed. To have seen the Huntington Beach pier prior to the
      storm, one could not imagine the pier sustaining such damage, as it is of the most formidable
      structures among piers.

      On one evening during this storm, perhaps a matter of 24 hours prior to the pier sustaining critical
      damage, and while lacking common sense, judgment, wisdom and relative sanity, I paddled-out in
      “black ball” conditions, and into the line-up in what I thought were 12 foot faces (it had been in the 12
      foot-face range most of the day and early evening). I recall vividly, walking along the north side of the
      pier as I approached the water on this evening, and with wetsuit dawned and board under arm I
      watched the huge faces aglow under the large dome lights on the pier. The waves radiated an eerie
      translucent green as they reached toward the sky, and came very close to the lights themselves. On
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      this evening the late Peter Crawford was ripping right next to the pier, and actually shooting the pier. If
      there are measurable degrees of insanity, his was tipping the scales on this night. However some
      would simply call it “drive.” I choose to call it so.

      As I paddled out it was about 01:00 a.m., under a full moon, and at high tide. The light cast by the full
      moon illuminated the waves in such a way that the small group of us surfing had surprising visibility. I
      was among not more then maybe ten other’s out at the time. I believe we wound up surfing 'till about
      04:00 a.m., at which point the waves began to violently closeout and dump hard as the result of a
      sharp shift in wind direction.

      On this night, I recall sitting on my board, looking out into the deep, and seeing massive dark walls
      approaching. The primary means by which we negotiated the height of the waves was that provided
      by the phosphorus glow of the crests, illuminated by the moonlight as they feathered and pitched in
      response to multidirectional winds. It was an awesome, majestic, terrifying and yet exhilarating sight.
      And with my heart in my throat and the rapid approach of a wave that appeared to tower near 20 feet
      in height, I would repeatedly charge down the face in a near vertical descent with such speed that I
      could hardly see. I was riding a very sleek, 7’ 2” Bruce Jones board shaped for speed and stability in
      big waves. Once reaching the bottom of the face, I would have so much momentum and force that I
      would rocket completely horizontal (bottom-turn), pump the face a few times, and shoot back up the
      face nearly the same speed that I descended, and do what I then called a "kamikaze flyaway," wherein
      me and my board would launch off the top of the wave—flying through the air and over it's
      backside—to avoid getting pounded by the ultimate close-out of the wave. At times it felt as if I flew 8
      feet above the top of the wave during my fly-aways.

      It was not until I paddled-in at roughly 04:00 a.m. that I discovered a Coast Guard report indicating that
      the waves had actually risen to a consistent height of15 feet, which equated to 18 foot or larger faces.

      In addition to an increase in storm-swell size on this evening, the gravitational pull of a full moon had
      created increased wave height.

      During this session in particular, I began to sense something in the prophetic, which was actually long
      before I began to gain relative understanding of prophetic elements within scripture.

      Luke 21:8-11 reads, “The time has drawn near…when you hear of wars and commotions, do
      not be terrified…nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom…there will be
      great earthquakes in various places, and famines and pestilences; and there will be fearful
      sights and great signs from heaven.”

      This excerpt of scripture is among countless verses in scripture that refer to the signs before us as the
      End Times march rapidly toward climax. Equally so, the panoramic plethora of world events and
      natural phenomena that have steadily mounted over the past few years, and within this year alone,
      surpass the best of the action-movies being generated by Hollywood presently. Within such natural
      phenomena is that of the steady yet subtle mounting of wave height around the globe. I suspect that
      many present surfing crusaders would argue that the waves have always been this big, and that rather
      we’re only now discovering them. Yet in truth, the vast majority of the mega-wave venues have never
      before produced such size. Historical oceanographic data proves this. Equally so, the regional
      weather patterns that ultimately produce these waves have never before been so erratic and
      unpredictable. This as well validated by historical meteorological data.

      At the time of this writing, within the surf culture we find that many men and several women are
      charging down the faces of waves in excess of 60 feet in height, and often approaching or surpassing
      80 feet in height.

      On January 28, 1998, at the age of 46, Ken Bradshaw (a native Texan), rode the largest wave ever
      ridden on record, at a break known as “Outer Log Cabins,” off the North Shore of Hawaii. The wave
      face measured an astonishing 85 feet. Bradshaw’s ride was filmed via helicopter and is featured in
      the I-Max production, “Extreme.”
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      In February 1998 Taylor Knox rode a 52-foot wave at a break named "Todos Santos," very near the
      shore of Baja California, directly west of Ensenada. Until this date big wave riders had been unaware
      that Todos would hold such size. Todos has since generated waves pushing 60 foot-plus.

      On January 12, 2001, World Champion female surfer Lane Beachley and fellow female big wave
      surfer Malia Kamisugi (an orthodontist, sharing a successful practice with her father in Hawaii)
      descended wave faces in the 50 to 60 foot range at Outer Log Cabins. Their collective performance
      on this day served notice to the boys that the “No Fear” slogan is now equally adopted by both sexes.
      The wave riding on this date by Beachley and Kamisugi proved that pound-for-pound, female surfers
      are equally willing and able to challenge “the unridden zone.”

      In the Spring of 2001 Californian big wave surfer Mike Parsons was awarded $60,000 for riding the
      largest wave of the 2000/2001 Winter season; a wave-face that measured an estimated 66 feet in
      height. This break, known as “Cortez Bank,” is that of a submerged mountain range in the middle of
      the ocean, located approximately 100 miles west of San Diego California. At one point in this area, it
      is said that a mountaintop is but three feet below the surface of the water. Mariners for many decades
      have avoided this area, while reporting what appear to be waves “…the size of skyscrapers.” Surfers
      often scoffed at their stories—until recently, for fresh film footage reveals that as massive ocean
      swells approach these submerged peaks, they jack-up and into the 70 foot-plus faces, which are now
      being surfed.

      Not long after Parson’s award wining ride, Peter Mel and Daryl "Flea" Virostko rode 58 to 64 footers
      at a break named "Maverick's," located roughly 20 minutes south of San Francisco, and an area
      known by mariners as Half Moon Bay. An interesting bit of trivia yields that the surf-spot met with its
      name back in the 1950’s, as one of the very few who secretly surfed the spot owned a German
      Shepherd named “Maverick.” The dog, owned by a surfer named “Alex,” it is said, would swim out to
      the line-up with surfers and lodge itself partially on one of their boards to gain rest for a few minutes
      between wave sets, would frolic in the water a moment, and then swim back to shore, repeating the
      process throughout the day.

      Not long following the 58 to 64-footers ridden by Mel and Virostko, Ross Clarke-Jones descended the
      face of a wave on the North Shore of Hawaii (Outer Log Cabins) which measured an estimated 65
      feet on the face. During this same period, Laird Hamilton (esteemed by many in the sport to be the
      greatest waterman alive) was filmed descending several 70 foot-plus waves at “Jaws” (north coast of
      Maui). Several of Hamilton’s rides on film over the past year or so appear to be that closer to or
      exceeding the 80-foot range.

      On November 21st of 2001, several Mavericks’ “hellions” charged into 65 to 80-foot faces for a period
      of roughly 2 to 4 hours. On this day, Brazilian big wave veteran Carlos Burle tucked into a barrel that
      witnesses said began with a wave face of at least 80 feet. Many believe this to be the biggest barrel
      ever successfully negotiated. It was also reported on the same day, that as late afternoon sets rolled-
      in following the surfers’ mass exit from the water due to “unridable” conditions, they witnessed what
      was reported to be several 80 to 90-foot sets, followed by the now infamous 100-foot set—an
      occurrence which has eternally labeled this day as “The Real Big Wednesday.” The waves in fact
      pounded the ocean bottom with such force that seismographs were sent into erratic readings in
      nearby San Francisco, which in turn sent scientists scurrying to this surf spot to witness the
      phenomenon.

      On this afternoon Shawn Alladio, a 40-year-old female water rescue specialist, who has personally
      trained Marine and Coast Guard groups in water rescue techniques, entered the water on a Yamaha
      1200cc Wave Runner, accompanied by 19 year old Jonathan Cahill (one of her understudies) on a
      second Wave Runner. Alladio had paced herself earlier in the day, so as to conserve strength for the
      expected peak in wave action in the late afternoon, which was forecasted with precision by veteran
      big wave rider and local surf shop owner Jeff Clark. Her restraint proved to be wisdom that saved her
      life.
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      Somewhere between 3:00PM and 4:00PM a number sets marched through like freight trains. To this
      point Alladio and Cahill had managed to race over smaller sections of the waves a good distance
      from the wave peaks. Following one of these monster-sets, and as Alladio and Cahill locked eyes in
      astonishment over the mounting size of the waves, Alladio looked toward the horizon to see a dark
      ridge that appeared initially to be a wall of fog. She looked left and right panning the horizon as far as
      she could see. She studied this dark wall for a few seconds and then noticed the top of the dark wall
      beginning to “feather.” Instinctively, she turned to her partner Cahill, and with her Wave Runner pointed
      directly at the dark wall yelled, “Go! Go! Go!” At which point she throttled her Wave Runner to
      maximum and charged directly toward the face of what she realized was the largest wave she had
      ever seen. An expert in hydrology, Cahill later recounted that in a fraction of a second, she had
      guessed that the approaching wave had to be traveling at 60 to 65MPH. The maximum speed of her
      Wave Runner was that of 65MPH. She therefore concluded that she would likely not outrun this
      behemoth of a wave. Rather, she chose to face it head on, and to ride over it before it broke in the
      impact-zone, where Alladio and Cahill had sat moments prior.

      To the observers on land, among them Ross Clarke-Jones (a world renowned big wave rider), said
      the two ascended the wave faces almost completely vertical, and then free-fell an estimated 50 feet
      behind them, to regroup and charge all five of the approaching waves within the monster-set.

      Alladio and Cahill later recounted their emotions during these critical moments. Alladio was quoted as
      saying that mysteriously, her thought processes and emotions were turned to the “off” position, and
      her instincts (honed through 1000s of hours of training) completely took over and led her to do what
      needed to be done to survive.

      Alladio and Cahill, following their successful clearing of the 5 monster-waves, cut the engines on their
      Wave Runners and sat bobbing in the water in silence for several minutes in an effort to regain their
      mental and emotional faculties. They stared at each other in shock and disbelief over what had just
      happened. For in their estimation the waves they ascended had to be near or at the 100-foot mark. It
      can therefore be stated for the record, albeit unofficially, that the “largest wave ever ridden” was that
      by Shawn Alladio and Jonathan Cahill, on Wave Runners, and going in the opposite direction of the
      wave.

      Among the dozens of witnesses to the events of this day, were Joe Sienkiewicz of the National
      Weather Service and Greg and Cary Smith, deputies of the Harbor Patrol at Half Moon Bay harbor.
      Sienkiewicz and the two Smith’s had until this date witnessed many life threatening days in the surf.
      However the events on this date surpassed anything they had witnessed throughout their collective
      careers.

      At the time of this writing numerous surfing spots around the globe are producing mammoth wave
      heights, which continue to subtly and steadily mount. This dynamic is generally unknown to the world at
      large, with the exception of the surfing sub-culture. And what is more mind boggling than the
      increasing size of these waves, is the rarity of serious injury and/or fatalities among these big wave
      riders.

      This may present a theological stretch for some; but recently while in prayer, I asked the Lord very
      pointedly: "Lord, how is it that so many of these professing non-Christian surfers can charge into the
      very jaws of death, in surfing conditions that are potentially fatal in more ways than one, day in and
      day out, year 'round, and I rarely hear of fatalities?"

      The Lord then replied to me in this way: "Because they're My wave riders."

      When I heard this, emotion overwhelmed me, as at this moment He enabled me to be overcome by a
      small dose of His love, mercy and compassion toward these lost souls as He spoke this to me. The
      impression I received was that He is actually so amused, entertained and delighted by watching these
      surfers so appreciate and enjoy His creation, that He showers His grace over them, granting them
      systematic revelation of His nature, solely through their experiences in these mountains of water.
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      Equally mind-boggling is the rate at which these "wave riders" are meeting the Lord—this often
      through no evangelistic efforts in the classical sense. Rather, through the raw presence of God
      manifested in the majesty of these waves.

      Consider this excerpt of scripture:

      "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of
      men, who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God
      is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. For since the creation of the world
      His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being
      understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse" (Romans 1:18-
      20).

      "His power and...nature have been clearly seen...through what has been made."

      A few years ago ESPN aired the Action Sports Awards, during which Laird Hamilton was awarded
      “Feat of The Year.” For earlier in the year Laird had surfed one of the most dangerous (single) waves
      in surfing history. What made this wave so dangerous (in Teahupo’o Tahiti) was that in addition to an
      estimated 30 foot-plus face, the wave (lip) itself pitched the same distance outward, and equally
      sported 30 feet in thickness. The wave tubed several feet below sea level, sucking Laird into an
      extremely dangerous position, creating very strong odds for a potentially fatal wipeout, as not more
      than 4 feet below the surface lay deadly lava formations. A wave of this symmetry produces literally
      100s of tons of bone-crushing energy and strength.

      When handed the award, Laird stated in effect, the following: "I believe that the sole reason that I
      have been granted this microphone, is so that I could say to millions of extreme sports fans, that
      Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior, and He enabled me to pull-off that ride, so that I could stand
      before you and attest to His saving grace and goodness."

      With that, and with silence that seemed to make time stand still, Laird stepped down from the podium.
      Seconds later, the crowd stood to their feet and roared with applause.

      As of the writing of this article Billabong surf apparel has sponsored and formed the Billabong
      Odyssey—a task force of big wave riders who are searching the globe for a chance to ride a 100-foot
      wave.

      As I reflect upon the truly awesome wave activity around the globe presently, as well as that of recent
      oceanographic predictions of tsunami's along the East and West coasts, I receive a strong
      impression that God's Holy visitation, in terms of the Final Harvest, is fast approaching.

      Admittedly, to know the surf culture, and especially the younger crowd, is to know some of the most
      aggressive, arrogant and obnoxious beings on the planet. Much of this meanness is fueled by learned
      behavior within the surf culture and compounded by overcrowded surf spots laden with selfish and
      hostile territorialism. And to see such aggressiveness showered with such grace and love in these
      times is to attest to God's goodness in His "willing that none should perish."

      Scripture says that we "see in part," and that we "look as through a glass, darkly." And so my
      perspective in matters tsunami is but a small part of what I believe to be transpiring globally, relative to
      the heightened frequency of natural disasters and the prophetic implications therein.

      In the natural, there presently lies the very real potential for record-breaking tsunamis on many
      coastlines around the globe. Recent oceanographic predictions include alarming reports of ocean
      shelf activity—activity with subsequent implications that far surpass any events on record. Equally so,
      in the spiritual realm, I believe there are waves coming that will sweep the unsaved off their feet, and
      for the ride of their lives.
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      Every Believer I've talked to this year has shared of an "inner cleansing" taking place—a call to purity,
      holiness and right standing before the Lord. We're being consumed in a wave of cleansing—a
      baptism like none other. And it's for the sole purpose of moving into places of darkness in order to
      rescue the lost. Judgment begins in the Lord’s house, and this call to purity that has so been voiced
      appears to be the very preparation of the Bride for the final harvest.

      In the past year alone I have been overwhelmed by the accessibility to the surf culture. By this I mean
      that fellow surfers, yet total strangers, with increased frequency are approaching me for the sake of
      casual conversation on the beach. As I then interact, I see the growing flame of hunger deep within
      them. This flame of hunger is that of the Holy Spirit Himself, stirring the souls of these “wave riders,”
      and calling them to Him.

      Lighthouses illuminate the dark, gloomy, formidable and cold storms. And so we must be like
      lighthouses, full of light and standing as beacons, pointing the way to the One.


      David Davenport is a graduate of MorningStar School of Ministry, Charlotte, NC, and ordained by
      MorningStar Fellowship of Ministries. David and his wife Gigi are former pastors of Shiloh Chapel,
      James Island, SC. You may contact David at the following email address: MustPressOn@aol.com

								
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