Baptized in the SpiritI SUPPOSE I WAS A TYPICAL EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLD, EXCEPT I WAS PERHAPSmore confused than most about the direction in which my life wasgoing. It was the year 1970, so my state of mind seemed to be shared bymany I knew at the time. I had spent most of my teen years trying to runfrom God and was attempting to figure out where I might possibly runwithout meeting God when I arrived. I experimented with drugs andlived as though God were nothing more than a distant thought. Therewere moments when I felt drawn away from my illusionary existencetoward the ultimate reality. But I resisted.Then came that decisive evening shortly after my high school graduation.I woke my father, an Assemblies of God minister, from a soundsleep at about midnight to let him know that I wanted to leave home tofind myself.
I had always admired him. He was strict but fair. His downto-earth humility appealed to me. I especially liked the way the churchmembers affectionately called him ''Brother Mike.'' He seemed to relateto them more as a brother than an authoritative pastor, though manytook him without question as a lifelong spiritual father. My mother, Elizabeth,besides her crazy sense of humor, had conveyed her deep faith tome by teaching me church choruses as a child. She persuaded me to singthem in church before the congregation. My tenor voice made me afavored choice for singing solos at our local church, an early experienceof ministry that was formative to my early spiritual development.
When I woke my father that night, I was far from the faith of my childhood.But telling my father that I wanted to leave home gave him an opportunityto reach out to me. What followed was an all-night conversation thatI will never forget. He spoke to me from the Bible and from many stories offaith from my family''s history. I was moved deeply. It made me feel that Icould not possibly run from God. To do so would cause me to run from somethingthat was deep inside of me, something I could not deny without denyingan essential part of who I was.Hours passed like minutes, but I held out.
I would not yet give my heartto Christ, so we both ended up going to bed exhausted. It was near dawn asI entered my bedroom. I knelt next to my bed and wondered what I shouldpray. I remember telling God that I did not know what to say. I said somethingsimple like, ''I only know that I need you, Lord. I give you my life.'' With thatbrief prayer, I lay down to the most peaceful sleep I had enjoyed in a longtime.The following day I told my parents what had happened and that I wantedto leave for a Bible college in order to discover my future in God.
Yes, I wouldget my wish to leave home in order to find myself, but in a way that I had notplanned. Their joy was tempered by my felt need to leave the neighborhoodas soon as possible. There was a network of friends that was sure to tear awayat my fledgling faith. I needed time away with God to be grounded in thefaith. My father arranged for me to attend Central Bible College in Springfield,Missouri.My first day on campus contained all of the anxieties of a new experience.I was not sure I wanted to stay. My father persuaded me to give it a month andleft me there with high hopes early in the afternoon of the second day.
Moments later I purchased a Bible at the bookstore and sat down to read fromit in my sparsely-furnished dorm room. The Bible was a large, plain study Biblethat I had bought for my classes. I remember turning to the book of Acts. Ibegan reading. Though I was familiar with several of the stories in that book,they seemed to come alive before my eyes as never before. The text drew mein. I was there when the disciples gathered around the risen Christ, and at Pentecostwhen the Spirit fell on the disciples as they prayed in tongues surroundedby flames of God''s holy presence. I was also there when Peter and John werebeaten for their faith but rejoiced at the privilege of suffering for Christ, andwhen Peter witnessed the Gentiles being filled with the Spirit.
I accompaniedPaul on his journeys and participated in his numerous adventures.I read the entire book of Acts without moving from my chair. I was awestruck. I opened the shade covering the window next to me and beheld thesun setting. I saw shades of red and yellow across the sky and I could feel thetears roll off of my cheeks. I remember thinking that I could not possibly bethe kind of Christian who merely ''played church.'' That certainly was not howthe Christians lived in the book of Acts. God was so real to them.
They liveddaily in the awareness of God''s presence and guidance. Life was an adventurein the Lord''s service and there were moments when God visited them withundeniable signs of divine favor and power. They had a fire burning in theirhearts.I determined in that moment that I wanted to be a Christian like them.I felt a calling from God grip me---God was calling me to lifelong ministry.My presence at that small Bible college in southwest Missouri was no accident.At that very moment, a few of the new students I had met earlier cameto my room and invited me to pray with them at the dorm chapel. What timing!The chapel was located on the third floor of the dorm, a small room withbenches along the walls and a plain wooden cross at the center of the wallfacing the door.
No sooner had I entered the room that I fell to my knees andbegan to pray. I began to cry and to search for words that I could not find.Meanwhile, my schoolmates began to pray for me. I felt a fountain well upwithin me. It grew stronger and stronger until it burst forth with greatstrength. I began to pray in tongues. It was not forced, neither from me norfrom God. In fact, it seemed at the moment to be the most natural thing todo.
By now I lay there on the floor with my eyes fixed on that cross. I feltGod''s powerful presence embrace me, and while accepting my calling to theministry, I made promises to God that have accompanied me throughout mylife.