so the night we met our coaches gary & lisa black, is when this aforementioned transaction took place. i don’t remember all of what gary taught that night, but what i do recall really stuck with me, which was that leaving behind everything to follow Christ is quite absurd. he marveled at the g-squad, that we’re actually dumb enough, like peter and the disciples, to say yes when He asked us to follow!
anyway, gary ends his talk with praying for us, then he and lisa and aim staff, serve team, coaches, leaders set off to pray over us. he instructs those who want someone to pray for them to raise their hands. by then my hands were already in the air, so i swing my arms straight up, vertically.
at that point, my prayer is simple: fill me, Holy Spirit; please come. someone, a woman, comes over to pray for me. to this day, i don’t know who she is, but she placed her palms to mine. my knees begin buckling ever so slightly as she’s praying, but i wasn’t sure if this was me or the Spirit so i’m standing (i imagine) rather awkwardly, knees slightly askew. she keeps praying and the sensation that i’m gonna keel over stays. i had been sitting against the wall, so instead of falling back, i fall forward, on my knees. without meaning to, i’m kneeling, doubled over, face low to the ground.
she prays audibly, something along the lines of, “may she feel You bubbling over from her stomach”. i feel her hand rest on my back a little while more and then she moves on. at that point, i think, “that’s it?” mostly though, i continue to ask (silently) for more of Him. as i open my mouth to pray aloud, i’m literally dumbfounded and i can’t form the words.
my tongue went numb and my jaw stiffened up a bit. and for the next hour or so (according to erin & bev), i’m praying in tongues. God gave me a prayer language, and i have no idea what i’m praying, but i’m praying anyhow. it feels like i might never stop and the more i pray, i’m practically kissing the concrete floor.
eventually the praying subsides and i sit up because by then my legs have not just fallen asleep, they’ve slipped into a coma. after the blood circulates a bit back to my legs, i’m kneeling again, hunched over – and this isn’t a position i assumed for myself to be humble as a good christian ought to be, i just feel the weight of His presence on me.
the same woman, or a different person, i don’t know (and still don’t), places her hand on my back, then after awhile, moves on. i open my mouth to pray more but nothing comes. i giggle instead. then the giggling grows into laughter, belly-aching laughter.
i promise i wasn’t thinking of anything particularly funny, not even movies like anchorman or zoolander. this too felt like it would never end. a few brothers and sisters from the squad lay hands on me and pray for me, asking God to seal His gifts.
these were not gifts i had been asking for. i never – and still don’t quite yet – understood praying in tongues. a youth pastor had poo-poo-ed the idea of “holy laughter”. yet there i was, praying as a baby talks and laughing like a mad woman, and it didn’t matter a lick to me! none of it was a result of any striving, it was given, from God.
every good and perfect gift comes from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows (james 1:12). if my earthly father, though he’s a sinner, knows how to give good gifts to his children, how much more my heavenly Father has given me good gifts because i’ve asked (matthew 7:11)!
gifts are grace – unmerited favor – given at the discretion and out of the desire of the giver for the recipient. sure, nowadays, we can create registries for everything; in fact, i set one up at rei.com for some gear for the race. and while i’m free to keep a list of the “greater gifts” that i desire, who am i to decline experiencing God in such a way?
