Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [65]
After the Holy Spirit had passed through the congregation, men and women walked up to a microphone at the front of the church and spoke the words that God had placed in their hearts. And, as it turns out, God had convinced several people to talk directly to me.
The first woman who stood up was middle-aged, round, and dressed in all purple. She said, “God has a purpose for your hike. He is with you, and He will never leave you or forsake you.”
The congregation agreed: “Amen.” “Hallelujah.” “Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm.”
Next, an older man with glasses and dark freckles on his wrinkled cheeks walked up to the microphone, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Sister, don’t ever think that you are alone in your journey, for even in the deepest valley and on top of the highest mountain, there God is, walking beside you.”
The crowd responded, “Yes, Lord!” “Preach it brother!”
I was embarrassed at being directly addressed, but I believed the words were true, and whether from God or man or both, I needed to hear them.
I was relieved when the time of sharing came to an end, but I wasn’t prepared for what came next.
The next part of worship began once again with gospel music, which I loved, and the singing led to dancing, which I liked, but then the dancing led to shaking, and I wasn’t so sure about the shaking. One by one, I saw men and women seized by convulsions that they couldn’t control.
Then one of the women stopped shaking and fainted. She really fainted! Then another man passed out . . . and then another! The only time I had ever seen anything like this was flipping through TV channels and watching televangelists yell and scream and then heal people with their hands. I had always thought that it was fake, but the people in front of me were really passing out! They even had spotters poised to catch the limp bodies before they hit the floor.
Speaking in tongues was one thing, but this was another level of crazy. I wasn’t prepared for it and didn’t know whether to believe my eyes.
And that’s when I began to feel it.
I felt lightheaded—really lightheaded. My knees grew weak, and then I had a head rush, and even though my eyes were open, everything around me went dark and I felt dizzy. As the darkness continued to close in, I felt for the pew with my hand and quickly sat down. Once I was seated, my vision and strength returned. I was the only person in the church not standing, but that was okay, because I hadn’t passed out.
I had never been overcome by such a powerful weakness in my life. If I had remained standing, I’m sure I would have fainted. I wanted to believe that it was low blood sugar that caused my dizzy spell, but I knew it was more than that. It felt like something had passed through me. I was scared to stand up again, so I was thankful when, a few minutes later, the entire congregation sat down to listen to the sermon.
I had grown up in a church where we weren’t even allowed to clap, but that morning I was convinced that the Holy Spirit could make people shake and faint. I didn’t want to shake or faint as an act of worship, I wanted to hike 2,175 miles.
It probably would have been a whole lot easier to just pass out.
Pastor Leslie sent me back to the trail with salve, powder, bandages, and, most importantly, moisture-wicking socks. Considering the shape my feet were in when I arrived in Roanoke, it was amazing how much better they felt after keeping them dry, clean, and rested for two days.
I didn’t just feel rested, I felt renewed. I couldn’t believe that I had hiked over seven hundred miles. I was proud of my accomplishment, but the distance had also taken a toll on my spirit, especially when I thought about the fourteen hundred miles I had left to hike.
The people at the church in Roanoke inspired me because they believed in a God Who could do