Last Man Standing

I think it was 1997. Some of the ministry team from the Brownsville Revival came to Toledo for a series of meetings. I had heard that God was showing up dramatically in people's lives through that church. I had heard about the power of God touching people in a way that caused them to shake, fall down, cry, and even laugh uncontrollably. I went to Toledo anticipating all the above.

I had seen those things happen before. I had seen them many times. I had never experienced any of them myself however. I was especially interested in the falling down part which is commonly called being slain in The Spirit.. Why? Probably because I had been in many meetings since my childhood where it looked like a game of Pentecostal Twister broke out during the ministry time. Bodies would be strewn everywhere and I was always last man standing. As a teenager I even faked it at a youth meeting once because I didn't think the people would stop praying for me until I fell. The only thing worse than being last man standing was being fake man laying with no idea how long I was supposed to stay down.

 So once in Toledo I was quite disappointed. On the way there I prayed that God would touch me in a way that would cause me to fall. I prayed it over and over again. I prayed it the way a 3 year old repeats something if they feel like they have not been heard. Over and over and over again. I wouldn't let the worship at the beginning of the service get in my way. I was single focused. I sang the songs - but I sang them with one thing in mind. I was like the person that can steer any conversation toward themselves. Repeatedly I would tell God that all I wanted was for Him to touch me. The worship ended and my "prayerful" badgering continued. Then came the sermon. I have absolutely zero memory of the sermon. How could I? I did not listen. I was too busy telling God what He should do.

Finally the sermon ended. There was a call for people to respond to the sermon on the floor of this large auditorium. The preacher could have appealed for anyone to come down that was struggling with an addiction to juggling and I wouldn't have known any different. I ran down to get prayed for so that I could fall down. I was hungry for God in my own mind.

There were hundreds of people waiting for ministry. I tried to position myself in the line of someone praying for people. I continued my barrage of petitioning God for Him to show himself by doing to me what I had seen him do for others so many times.

A strong looking man with a mustache came toward me. I put my hands out and waited. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and shoved me forward in a downward motion. I weighed about 280 lbs.at the time and I resisted. He tried again and I resisted more. He then went along praying for and laying hands on other people. Now I was angry. Angry and offended. How dare he try to push me down? My indignation at the mustachioed man caused me to ignore my own selfishness as I continued my prayerful appeal.

Soon I saw a man moving the crowd. He appeared to be in his early 50's and shorter than I with slicked back jet black hair. Several people were on each side of him as an entourage. I could see gold jewelry on his hands and wrists complementing his dark well made suit as he approached.Wherever he went they went too. He looked like I imagined a Mafia Don would. The suit may have cost more than the car I was driving at the time. Now I was doubly offended. Both at The Pusher and at Don Corleone.

Don Corleone came straight to me along with his entourage. I was surprised as he came close because there was something in his eyes. Peace. Strength. Gentleness. I was taken off-guard. He put his hands gently next to my temples. I could barely feel his hands against my hair. Then it happened...

In the middle of my indignation, offense, and bewilderment I felt my body go straight up in the air. My feet literally left the ground and elevated a few inches and then I immediately fell backward. I have no memory of landing but I laid on my back trying to comprehend what just happened. I wondered what I was supposed to do next. I felt the same as I had before except I was now on my back. No visions or trance. No shaking or laughter. 

It was then that I felt God speak to me. I suddenly had the understanding that I wanted the wrong things for the wrong reasons. I wanted to be slain in The Spirit not because I was so hungry for God, but rather because I had felt insecure when other people had experienced something I had not. I felt like it was validation of my low self worth every time I was last man standing. Subconciously, I believed that my lack of a manifestation equalled a lack of God's love for me. I realized the error of my perspective.  I asked for forgiveness while still on the ground for using Him and pretending it was spiritual hunger. I also repented for my judgment of the two men that prayed for me.

I really did lift off of the ground and fall backwards. That has not happened since then. In the past several years I have been last man standing in many states and even a couple of countries. I no longer ask God for that specific thing. I ask Him to transform me more into Christ's image. I ask Him to have mercy on my shortcomings (which are many) and to help me be merciful to others. I ask Him for many things but falling down isn't one of them. He can do that if He wants do and I am willing.