The writer (R B Jones) will never forget one outstanding experience of this sense of an atmosphere laden with the power of God's realised presence.
He was conducting meetings in Amlwch, Anglesey, in the first months of 1905. Revival had even then reached the northernmost most point in Wales, and the meetings were the culmination of several weeks work in that island called 'the Mother of Wales'. The 'capel mawr' was crowded. The memory of that meeting, even after a quarter of a century, is well nigh overwhelming. It was easily the greatest meeting the writer was in (and it was R B Jones who lit the fire in Rhos in November 1904). The theme of the message was Isaiah, Chapter 6. The light of God's holiness was turned upon the hearts and lives of those present. Conviction of sin, and of its terrible desert, was so crushing that a feeling of almost of despair grew over all hearts. So grievous a thing was sin; so richly and inevitably did it deserve the severest judgement of God, that hearts questioned, 'Could God forgive? Could God cleanse?' Then came the word about the altar, the tongs and the live coal touching the confessedly vile lips, and the gracious and complete removal of their vileness. After all, there was hope! God was forgiving and He had cleansing for the worst. When the rapt listeners realised all this the effect was -- well, 'electrifying' is far too weak a word; it was absolutely beyond any metaphor to describe it. As one man, first with a sigh of relief, and then, with a delirious shout for joy, the whole huge audience sprang to their feet. The vision had completely overwhelmed them and, one is not ashamed to tell it, for a moment they were beside themselves with heavenly joy. The speaker never realised anything like it anywhere. The whole place at that moment was so awful with the Glory of God - one uses the word 'awful' deliberately; the holy presence of God was so manifested that the speaker himself was overwhelmed; the pulpit where he stood was so filled with the light of God that he had to withdraw! There, let us leave it at that. Words cannot but mock such an experience.
'Rent Heavens', by R B Jones, page 28.