The Holy Spirit Envelops Me

The thunder roared as the small infrequent droplets splashed to the ground. Suddenly, water streamed from the dark, murky clouds. I had watched the clouds push their way into the night sky from the cold, hard bench in the two-walled shack at evening service at church camp.

I directed my eyes back to the stage once I got bored watching the dismal rain. A Christian rock band, called the Living Stones, was jamming on various instruments.

Christina, a girl I met four days before, pushed her chubby, freckled cheeks up with a grin. Her light brown eyes coaxed me into getting up in front of everyone to dance. She moved her feet to the steady beat of the drums and slowly danced her way to the edge of the cement floor to get cooled by the refreshing rain.

I forced my feet to move along with the music, but my attention turned to the outdoors once again. The mist blew across my warm face as I stared blankly into the darkness. Still unconsciously moving my feet to the beat, I was lost in the clouds. Listening to the beautiful words that poured from the singer's lips, I wondered, "How powerful is God that he could bring peace among the darkness?"

My attention was grabbed by the music until the fireworks of thunder and lightning made known its presence to me. The melodious words no longer erupted from the singer's mouth. She declared, "What a show He's putting on for us tonight! Praise God!"

The pace of the evening slowed down for a while. My eyelids grew heavy. I gave in to them and swayed from left to right. I shut out the world and focused on every word of the songs. I lifted my hands into the damp air and felt peace.

I no longer thought about the people who were praying all around me. A whirlwind of joyous thought swept through my mind.

The soft melody ended. My eyes opened as the drummmer aimed for the first beat of a rapid, upbeat song. People raised their hands into the air, as if to reach for something, or someone, they couldn't grasp. Running in place and jumping, they kept with the beat. My feet moved swiftly over and around each other to the rythm.

In mid-song, the singer closed her eyes and slapped her hands together. The music stopped. She kept an unusual rythym with her hands. A smile spread across her lips as she opened her eyes to look upon her audience.

All was silent. People stood up and stared at her, their mouths, dropped open. A man, then came forward and told us all what it meant. His deep voice beckoned the words of the Lord.

From then on, the Holy Spirit took over. The song played again, and everyone there sprung up into the air, shouting, "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!"

My stomach boiled with happiness. The feeling spread thoughout every limb and through my fingers. My hands twitched as I held them in front of my face.

Those around me were falling to the ground, crying, or laughing uncontrollably. The older Christians came around to the young and mumbled in a language I could not comprehend. They each raised one hand to small foreheads and down the young ones went, into the arms of caring peers.

A heavy-set, older girl with black, curly pigtails walked up to me and placed her huge hand on my sweaty forehead. I shut my eyes.

She spoke softly in that exotic foreign language. Her hand slightly pushed me backwards. She prayed again while coaxing me further toward the wet edge of the floor. All of the sudden, I felt Him! There was a tug at my heart. I fell, and someone's hands guided me slowly to the ground. Anguish swept though me and I cried with not much reason, at least in my own mind. I later learned that it is called conviction and that I should pay attention to that burning sorrow.

Peace, then, filled me from head to toe, as if a cloud had swept me up into the wonderous sky. Like electricity, the Holy Spirit took His course through my entire body.

I lifted myself up and watched the chaos around me. Morgan, a girl I never thought would succumb to this, had fallen. Like the rain that once poured from the sky, tears flowed down her rosy cheeks. She raised to her feet, only to fall flat on her hind end again. My pastor helped her to a bench and prayed with her.

Still dazed, I fell onto a bench. The youth leader from my church, standing next to her husband and holding Morgan's shaking hand, turned her smiling face to me and remarked, "I don't think any one of us is going to be the same after this."