When I returned to South Africa in July 1994, I experienced culture shock. Even though I had only been away for four months. It felt as if the country was enduring the worst spiritual drought ever. I hadn’t realised the profound impact that the renewal beginning in Toronto had on my life. I held a quiet hope that I had somehow “caught” that renewal and could share it with others. I wasn’t the only Christian who felt that way. I've learned that the Lord is a true gentleman. He won't reveal His presence without an invitation, including the pastor's approval. One evening during our church service, I had a close call.

 

The service was the same as always. Costa, our pastor and his wife, were away in America for a sabbatical. There was a stark absence compared to what I had experienced in America and England. Nonetheless, that didn’t stop me from engaging in worship.

 

During worship, my friend Nicolette, who was next to me, stood up to read a beautiful scripture aloud during a break between two songs. I felt an indescribable joy bubbling up from my heart, and before I knew it, I burst into loud laughter. I quickly covered my mouth to stifle it. Then, I glanced up and met our pastor Eric Jurgenson's stern gaze. It was a close call!

 

Things started to change a little more during home group nights. I had prepared a special teaching the night before, but since some members couldn’t make it, I decided to set it aside. That evening, a couple visited us. Our worship leader sang, "Let Your House Be Filled with Your Glory Lord." Soon after, I began to giggle. I tried to suppress it, but I couldn't. I burst out laughing in the middle of Paul, our very German friend's prayer. I felt ridiculous and didn’t know how to handle it.

By this point, my arms felt heavy, and I could barely lift them. I attempted to stand but found my legs too weak to support me. After several tries, I managed to get up and asked everyone to stand in a circle. I began to pray for them, and without warning, one tall young woman fell to the ground as though she had collapsed. I tried to catch her from the side, but I ended up going down with her. Paul looked concerned and asked what we should do. “Should we pray for her?” he inquired. My most theological response was, “Aaaah no.”

Eventually, when the woman came to, I instructed her to go pray for the worship leader. Soon he began to giggle and then fell backwards onto the sofa, kicking his legs like a distressed chicken. The woman continued to pray for him, asking the Lord to give him rest. I don't know what she meant by that. But, the Lord understood. The next thing we knew, he was out—no more kicking.

 

After all the commotion, we tried to return to worship. But, the worship leader couldn't stop giggling. Paul spoke up with urgency, “Should there not be some order in the church?” His friend responded, “What is order? The order of man or the order of God?” He was also wonderfully touched by the Lord that night.