I want to relate an incident that happened on a recent Wednesday night at church. To give you a bit of background leading up to the event, let me just preface by saying that my wife grew up in a fundamental Baptist family, and went to schools that demonstrated the same values. The Holy Spirit seems to be more of a theological topic of discussion rather than a cut and dry reality in these sort of circles. After my first run in with the Holy Spirit at this new church, I have been praying that the Spirit do a work in my wife in a mighty way. She is by no means what I would call a Penticostal, Charismatic, or any other such Spirit led denomination, and a personal, devestating encounter with the Holy Spirit is probably the last thing she expected to happen. Now, this Wednesday night she was in the Spirit very strongly, as was I. The worship experience grew stronger and stronger, almost to the point of actually being slain. I have been experiencing this lately, and therefore was not at all thrown by the phenomena. Then something happened. As far as I can tell my wife did not have the same experience, and I did not tell her about what happened to me because I needed to speak to a couple spiritual leaders to try and get some discernment about the situation. Here is what happened: I was overcome with a feeling of panic and dread, bordering on sheer terror. I felt that I was going to die, or the building was going to blow up, or demons were going to begin dancing on the stage, or I don't know what. I only knew that the feeling was so scary and shocking that I literally almost ran out of the building. Instead, I began fighting. The only thing I could figure was that I was under attack, and I began rebuking, claiming Jesus, and professing that Satan had no dominion in my life any longer. I know this sounds kind of corny, especially as I write it down, but hey, what happened happened. As I prayed the feeling of fear and doom eased, but did not entirely vanish for awhile. Meanwhile, my wife was so struck by the Spirit that I had to sit her down on the pew because I was afraid that she might fall out and hurt herself (though I don't think she can be hurt if the Spirit is involved). Anyway, everything went slowly back to normal, and the evening progressed with no further hitches. When I spoke to my wife about her experience, she related to me that it felt to her like God Himself had his hand on the back of her neck, holding her in place.
After speaking with a couple guys that I trust, the conclusion was reached that I probably was dying. I don't mean physically, but a part of me (soul, flesh, or whatever) that needed to be murdered so that I can grow closer to Jesus. I always assumed that the dying to flesh was a sort of practice makes perfect thing, not an actual death thing, but I now think that I might have been quite wrong. I think that the term death may be more accurate than I ever imagined.
A good friend and spiritual rock related to me how the Spirit works in his relationship with his wife. He told me that as he and his wife grow closer, as one flesh, the Spirit acts on them together (as one flesh). His wife gets completely slain in the Spirit, and her spirit feeds off of his spirit. This also works both ways, with his spirit communing with hers, though he has never been completely slain in the Spirit. I don't even know if my wife knows what she was praying that night. What I mean to say is that we can pray in the spirit, and we may never actually know what we are praying, but the Holy Spirit does. I believe my wife's spirit must have been making intercession for me, asking God to change me because WOW, it got real weird real fast! God is doing something astounding through His Spirit, something that is working mightely in both my wife and myself. I don't ever want to lose what we have gained, and I want more. I will die daily to my flesh, scary parts and all, if it means a closer walk with Jesus. God is real. Jesus is real. The Holy Spirit is real, and He is here for us, as a constant help and comfort. Have you felt Him lately?
