When the Spirit Fell on Azusa Street

In April 1906, William Joseph Seymour — the son of formerly enslaved parents, blind in one eye, once forced to listen to Bible school lectures from the hallway because of his skin color — began leading prayer meetings in a small home on Bonnie Brae Street in Los Angeles. The crowds quickly outgrew the house, and Seymour moved to a dilapidated former stable at 312 Azusa Street.

What happened there stunned the world. For three years, services ran nearly around the clock. Black and white worshipers knelt side by side in an era of rigid segregation. Women preached alongside men. Children spoke with startling authority. Domestic workers and professors wept together at the same splintered altar. One reporter dismissed it as "a weird babel of tongues," but those inside recognized something ancient and promised.

Joel had declared that the Almighty would pour out His Spirit on all flesh — sons and daughters, old and young, servants both male and female. For centuries, that promise seemed confined to a single day at Pentecost. But at Azusa Street, a half-blind preacher with no credentials and no platform became the vessel through which God reminded His church: the latter rain was never meant for the privileged few. It was promised for all flesh — every tongue, every station, every generation.

When God restores, He does not ration.