I was born into a Jewish family, and raised in the Jewish faith. Dad’s parents were Orthodox Jews who had emigrated from Russia in the early 1900’s.  Mom’s grandfather, David, for whom I was named, was a cantor, a devoutly religious man.  Nevertheless, I was taught very little about religion.  I was proud of my heritage, but I never read the Bible, except for a few of the Psalms and the first few chapters of Genesis.  When I entered college at the age of 18, I had no understanding of God, often doubting His existence.

    My first close encounter with God Almighty occurred during my second year of college.  My sister and her husband were expecting their first child in June.  In the month of April, on the first day of Passover, my sister went into premature labor, and the baby was delivered by Cesarean section. They named the baby Peter, but due to complications, he lived for only three days.  During that time, I prayed to God, asking Him to not let anything happen to either my sister or to her baby.  I didn’t really know how to pray.  I reasoned that if enough people prayed about a situation, God would hear those prayers, and everything would be okay.  I decided, therefore, that if anything bad were to happen, it would mean that God didn’t really exist.  

     I was in my dorm  when Mom called to tell me the news:  my sister was fine, but her baby didn’t make it.  After hanging up the phone, I stood there for a moment in the hallway.  Through clenched teeth, amid streams of tears, I uttered out loud, “There is no God!”  Immediately, I felt the building shake!  I had never experienced an earthquake, but I was sure I was feeling one now.  I grabbed onto the phone booth looking down at the floor, thinking that it might soon begin to crack.  Then it stopped – just as suddenly as it had started.  I knew this was no earthquake.  It was God shaking me up.  It was His way of showing me how wrong I was to deny Him.  I begged for His forgiveness, vowing to never deny His existence again.

    The following year, my sister and brother-in-law were blessed with a healthy son, and later a beautiful daughter.  It was not until years later when I came to realize the significance of what I had experienced that day in the dorm.

    I’d been battling depression for a long time, and over the years I tried various antidepressant prescriptions, but to no avail.  I sat in front of the TV set one afternoon in late August, aimlessly flipping the remote control, trying to fill my mind with anything that might relieve me from my state of depression.  Finally, I had had enough.  Dropping the remote to the floor, I cried out, “God, I can’t help myself anymore!  You have to help me!  Show me the truth about Jesus.  Send me to a place that teaches the TRUTH.  I can’t go on blind faith.  I have to know the truth!”  I asked God to show me whether Jesus really is the Messiah or whether the Jewish people are right in believing He hasn’t come yet.  I got down on my knees and sobbed.  Afterwards, I felt somewhat relieved.  I believed that God had heard my plea.

     Later that day, I phoned an acquaintance that I had been out of touch with for some time.  Helen began telling me about a church she had been attending for the past several months.  She sounded very excited as she went on and on about this church, and about how her life had been completely changed. When I told her that I had been thinking about finding a church to attend, she invited me to go with her.       

     The church Helen attended was a Pentecostal-apostolic church.  This meant nothing to me, since I was a Jew who knew only that Christians believe Jesus is the Messiah, and the Jews believe the Messiah has not yet come.  I had no understanding of why there are so many different denominations or how the Protestant churches differ from the Catholic Church.  I only knew that I was hungry for knowledge and for truth, and that I did not want to worship in blind faith.  
  
     The following Wednesday evening, I went with Helen to a mid-week service at the Pentecostal church.  I felt a bit uncomfortable at first, as I was not accustomed to this type of worship – people were raising their hands and calling out words of praise as they openly worshipped Jesus.  But after-wards when I returned home, I noticed that I was feeling noticeably less depressed than before I had left the house.  The next day, I purchased my first Bible – a King James Version.  On Friday, Helen accompanied me to my first Bible study with the pastor at the church.  I learned how all the prophecies of the Messiah in the Old Testament were fulfilled by Jesus in the New Testament.  

     The eve of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, fell on a Wednesday night that year.  This was my third visit to this church, as I had not yet attended on a Sunday.    Usually I felt guilty on the Jewish high holidays when I did not attend synagogue services.  Now, here I was, in a church!  I thought this to be a bit ironic..  The service turned out to be considerably different from the first two I had attended.  While prayer requests were being given, several people approached the altar for prayer.  This is a common occurrence, however, tonight this portion of the service was lasting a long time.  As more people approached the altar, and the praise singers kept singing, I sat in a pew feeling something I had never felt before.  I began to cry as I asked God to help me to accept Jesus as Messiah.  I was finding it so difficult to “cross over,” having been taught all my life to believe that Jesus was nothing more than a rabbi – a good man who wanted to help his people when they were under Roman oppression.

    One of the ladies sitting near me in the pew reached over and placed her hand on my shoulder.  This gave me a sense of comfort.  She later told me that she had felt a “nudge from God” in her spirit to do this.  Helen had gone up to the altar area, but now she was back in the pew.  She asked me if I wanted to go to the altar.  She said I didn’t have to go if I didn’t want to, but she had felt a “nudge from God” to ask me. “Yes,” I said, “I want to go.”  I wanted to repent and ask God to forgive me for my sins.  I had told Helen earlier that day that I wanted what she had.   I wanted the Holy Spirit to dwell inside me.  I wanted to feel the same joy that was so evident in her.

     Helen went with me to the front of the sanctuary.  I knelt down at the altar, told God that I was sorry for all the times I had sinned against Him, and asked for His forgiveness.  As I continued to pray, several women stood behind me and urged me to stand up and raise my hands and praise God.  These women placed their hands on my shoulders and prayed for me.  I did not know really how to praise God, for I had never been taught how to worship and praise Him.  I did feel a sense of relief, because I had repented of my sins and accepted God’s forgiveness.  Now, the next step was to be baptized in Jesus’ name so that God would fill me with the Holy Ghost.  

     Acts 2:38 says “…Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost” (KJV).  I thought I needed to be baptized first, before I could receive the Holy Ghost.  Nevertheless, I continued in my attempts to praise God.  

     After several minutes, I began to feel my lips and tongue becoming sort of limp.  The pastor told me to yield to what I was feeling, because it was the Holy Spirit.  I began to mutter the word “Hallelujah,” which seemed to flow from my mouth without conscious effort.  The people who were standing around me encouraged me to continue to praise God, so I kept repeating the word “Hallelujah” and whatever words of praise I could think of to say.  I yielded my tongue to allow my speech to be controlled by God rather than by myself.  Then I heard myself utter some words or syllables in a language that I did not know.  I felt myself becoming somewhat numb and it was getting difficult for me to remain standing.  Some ladies helped me down to the floor, and there I lay for several minutes.  I felt a sense of pure joy along with a feeling of inner peace.  Never in my life had I felt like this before!  Later, I learned that I had been “slain in the Spirit” after having received the baptism of the Holy Spirit.  How awesome is the God we serve!

    The following Sunday morning, I attended church service and was baptized in the precious name of Jesus.  This too, was an awesome experience!  The water in the baptismal tank was rather cold, because the heater had not been turned on earlier.  I did not want to postpone my baptism, so I told the pastor to go ahead with it anyway.  I had also told him about my fear of having my head submerged under water.  I was held underwater for only a second or two while the name of  Jesus was invoked over me for the remission of my sins, but when I came back up, I was unable to catch my breath.  The pastor, recalling what I had told him about my fear of being underwater, said to me, “You’re all right.”  As soon as I heard this, I felt the water get very warm.  This warmth started at my feet, and worked  its way up to the top of my head.  It felt like a Jacuzzi!  I knew that this was the fire of the Holy Spirit.  I began to speak in “tongues.”  I can still remember “rolling” my R’s (like “R-r-ruffles have r-r-ridges”), which I cannot consciously make myself do (believe me, I’ve tried).  Other than that, I have no recollection of what I said.  I know without a doubt that it was God’s Spirit that gave me the utterance.  

    Soon after my salvation experience, reflecting back on my life, I realized that God had His hand on me from the very beginning.  I thought about my little nephew, Peter, who was born on Passover and lived for three days.  When I learned of his death, I denied God’s existence.  The Bible tells us that Jesus was arrested during Passover.  Simon Peter denied that he knew Him.  Jesus was crucified and was resurrected on the third day.  Now, I knew what God was telling me so many years ago.  Not only does God indeed exist, but He was also revealing to me that He is Jesus, whose name means “Jehovah has become salvation.”  What a wonderful feeling to know that God is in control!  My sins have been forgiven.  I’ve been washed by His cleansing blood.  The old me was buried in the waters of baptism, and I am a new creature in Christ.  His Spirit dwells within me.  Praise His Holy Name!

    Once we are saved, living for God is not always as easy as one might expect.  Our problems do not suddenly disappear, but God gives us an ability, which we did not have before we were saved, to withstand adversity and resist temptation.  When we first come to God, He does not necessarily deliver us from all of our habits and fears immediately.  While some people do receive total deliverance the moment they experience the baptism of the Holy Spirit, others go through periods of time – sometimes months or years – when they struggle to overcome them.  

     At the time of my conversion, I had been dealing with a number of emotional problems, including depression and codependency.  During the first several years of my walk with God, there were many times when I felt isolated and alone, and the pain seemed unbearable.  But, God was teaching me to rely solely on Him.  My friends were not always reliable.  Friendships were not always what I thought they were.  I learned that Jesus is our only Friend who is always there when we need Him, even when all we need is someone just to talk to.  He always understands exactly what we’re going through.  He never condemns us, but will convict us or chastise us whenever we need it.  He is always right and never wrong.      

     While God was healing me emotionally, He was also strengthening me spiritually and increasing my faith.  He bestowed on me the gift of tongues.  This is an awesome experience, and not to be confused with the initial tongues spoken at the time of Holy Ghost baptism.  I had been praying in tongues regularly for several years before receiving this gift.  God gave me some degree of discernment of spirits, which helped me to ward off demonic attacks.  He would speak to me in His “still small voice,” reassuring me of His love for me and His omnipresence in my life.  Even when I can’t feel His presence, I know He’s always there!

    God takes broken vessels and fixes them, and then uses those who are willing to serve Him.  I was once lost in spiritual oblivion, but God saw my hungry heart, and He drew me to Him.  I am complete in Him – a “completed Jew.” I have experienced Pentecost the same way the 120 Jews in the Upper Room experienced it when the Holy Ghost was first poured out, fulfilling Joel’s prophecy, “And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions:” (Joel 2:28).  

 Have you experienced your personal Pentecost?

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