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From the Cliff Edge
Why staying true to your conviction is a debt you owe to the world
I was a teenager back then in the 90s when the Pentecostal movement in Nigeria was growing rapidly and disrupting orthodoxy. I recall standing in a line of eager converts as soft worship music from the choir set the right mood for signs and wonders. Being the curious child that I was, I was anticipating the experience and how this date with the divine would play out.
We had read about the Disciples and the gathering of the church, and the dramatic ministration of the Holy Spirit as it came down like fire and split in cloves upon each man’s head. We had studied how this divine experience led to a bursting forth of spiritual power of such magnitude that the witnesses spoke in a variety of tongues (or languages) to the chagrin of the onlookers. It was against this backdrop that I waited in prayer as the minister moved closer, laying hands on everyone on the line until they literally fell under the anointing of his touch as he moved and prayed with fervor. When he got to me, I closed my eyes, prayed and waited. The minister placed a firm hand on my head and prayed, holding my shoulders and pushing my head back as he did. I staggered backwards a little and regained my balance, all the while waiting for the power of the Holy Spirit to overwhelm me and unlock my tongue to speak…
