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A United Methodist pastor, lying on a Lutheran gymnasium floor, struggling with God about speaking in tongues is not something you would expect to see very often, but that is a part of my story. That incident took place in about 1974, and it is still an important part of my spiritual life. A little background might be helpful in understanding it.

I grew up in the Evangelical United Brethren Church, which merged in 1968 with the Methodist Church to form the United Methodist Church. Sunday School, Youth Fellowship, and other church activities were always an important part of my life. Five years after I graduated from high school, I entered college with the intention of becoming a pastor. There was no dramatic call from God at that time; just awareness on my part and that of others that this seemed to be a place where I could serve.

My search for a deeper experience of God may have been present for some time, but I became more aware of it as I saw in some lay people an awareness and experience of God that I knew I didn't have. They talked about a personal relationship with Jesus, and being filled or baptized with the Holy Spirit, which made their faith alive and vital. They sometimes offered books, tapes, invitations to prayer groups, or special speakers, which answered some of my questions and further heightened my interest. My biggest question was about speaking in tongues. I had heard it at a youth prayer meeting once, and I had done a lot of reading about it, but I wasn't sure I wanted anything to do with it.

My interest in these topics culminated one night following a Bible study at church. I asked several of the lay people to pray for me concerning my questions and desire for a deeper relationship with Jesus and experience of the Holy Spirit. I knelt at the altar while they placed their hands on my head and shoulders and prayed for me. There were no flashing lights, visions, speaking in tongues, or anything like that, but I could tell I was changed. The Bible came to life in ways that it hadn't before; my preaching became more positive and Christ-centered; prayer became more exciting; and the desire to share my faith became more intense. It was a major turning point in my faith, but God wasn't done with me yet.

Several months later, my wife and I went to St. Louis to visit former members of our church who had moved there. An evangelist with a healing ministry was speaking, so we all decided to go. Following her sermon, the evangelist invited people to come forward to accept Jesus and receive prayer for healing or any other need. Many people went forward for prayer. As some received prayer, they fell to the floor. We had never experienced that before and thought it was a little strange, but it happened to a United Methodist pastor and a young boy, among many others, so we didn't question its validity. We learned later that it was called "being Slain in the Spirit," as people came under the power of the Spirit. My own encounter with the Spirit was drawing closer.

Later that summer, my wife and I went to a Lutheran gymnasium to hear a couple who had become Christians later in life and wondered why everyone wasn't as excited about the Christian faith as they were. They had written a number of books, which I had read, so I wanted to hear them in person. Following their presentation, they invited people to come forward for prayer to receive Jesus, be filled with the Holy Spirit, and receive prayer for healing or other special needs. Two long lines formed, one for the husband, one for the wife, and Jeri and I got into the line to see the wife. When we got to her, I told her that I was a United Methodist pastor, and that I wanted more of the power she had been talking about. She asked me if I had received the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, and I said that I believed I had. She asked if I spoke in tongues, and I said that I had a lot of questions about it and problems with it. She placed her hand on my shoulder in prayer, and the next thing I knew, I was down on the gym floor. Jeri didn't know what to do, and the evangelist said, "Don't help him; he's under the power of God."

I'm not exactly sure what I was experiencing and feeling on that gym floor, but I'm sure I was struggling with God. I have no concept of the amount of time I was there, but when I got up, Jeri and I talked to the speaker again. She asked me if I had spoken in tongues; I said no and that I still had a lot of questions and problems with it. She said, "Just try it." I told her I had, but nothing came out. She said, "You know what's going to happen if you don't?" And then I was on the floor again, struggling with God and my questions and fears about speaking in tongues. Again, I don't know how long I was there. Jeri went to the bleachers to sit with some friends. They told me later that they had been praying, "Knock him silly, Lord." I think their prayers were answered.

As I lay on the floor, a word or phrase came to mind which I didn't understand. I don't know if I thought it or said it, but it was the beginning of a new prayer language, which has become part of my new prayer life. It is something I use regularly as an expression of praise to an awesome God or when I pray for a situation in which I'm not sure what the specific need is. I use it often throughout the day in my private expressions of praise and prayer, and use it only rarely with another person or group.

When I share this experience, I always say that this does not make me better than anyone who has not experienced it. I can only say that it has made my personal awareness of God much deeper and my desire to serve God greater. The power of God is awesome. Your experience may take you down a different path, but don't be afraid of seeking and accepting all God has for you.