And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.
Acts 2:3-4

Johanna

After two hours on the bus, we finally arrived. The heat hit me as soon as I stepped off—I instantly felt the urge to start fanning myself.

Hello, mountain range weather, I muttered to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead as I followed behind Pastor Allan and Pastor Melchour.

I managed to chat a bit with Pastor Allan along the way and quickly noticed how cheerful he was. There was something admirable about his contagious joy and easy laughter. Wow, I thought, I wish I could be that optimistic all the time.

"So, how are you taking all this in? Pretty new to the whole thing, huh?" Melchour asked, slowing his pace to walk beside me.

"Well, yeah, I can't deny that it's all new to me... but I like it, Manung," I replied with a smile.

Nearly thirty minutes passed, and I began to wonder just where exactly we were going. The trail had started off manageable, but it quickly shifted into rough, uphill terrain. The path gradually transformed into a seemingly endless staircase, and my legs were starting to feel the strain. I noticed Pastor Melchour glance at me, amused by the expression on my face.

"Don't worry, Anna," he said with a grin. "We're almost there. Ten more minutes and we'll reach the church."

His words brought a wave of relief. I hadn't expected a surprise hike, but even with the heat, the climb, and the sweat trickling down my back, I felt something stirring in my heart—excitement. I found myself wondering what the church would look like, curious about the people I was about to meet. And more than anything, I felt anticipation rising inside me.

I didn't know exactly what was going to happen today... but I had a strong feeling God was about to do something amazing.

And I couldn't wait to see it.

Melchour

I quietly watched Anna as she did her best to walk steadily along the rough trail. Her steps were cautious, but determined. I lowered my head, trying to hide the amused smile tugging at my lips. Praise God, I thought. She's keeping up better than I expected.

Something in my spirit tells me God's doing a deep work in this woman's life. I don't know the full picture, but I believe today might be a turning point for her. My prayer is that as I teach about the baptism of the Holy Spirit, her heart would be open to receive.

We walked for about half an hour more before finally arriving at the church.

"Wow... thank God we're finally here. I thought we'd never arrive!" I heard Johanna joke.

I looked over at her—and paused. Her face was flushed from the heat, cheeks glowing red. But rather than look worn out, she looked radiant. The sunlight danced on her skin, and for a moment, I was caught off guard.

"Uhm... Manung, are you okay? Do I have dirt on my face or something?" she asked, tilting her head with a puzzled look.

Her voice pulled me back to reality.

"Oh—no, nothing like that. I'm fine," I said quickly, looking away.

I silently thanked God for the distance between us. Had I been any closer, I might have said or done something... weird. I shook the thoughts out of my head and made my way toward the church.

I need to focus. The service was set to begin in about an hour. I pulled out my notes and started to review, narrowing my focus as I scanned the lines. But the more I tried to read, the more her face kept flashing in my mind.

I set the notes aside with a quiet sigh. My thoughts were drifting—somewhere I hadn't let them go in a long time.

Clara.

I hadn't felt anything like this since she left. I didn't know what this was—just a burst of emotion from seeing God change Johanna's life? A brotherly pride?

Or... was it something else?

I leaned back and took a deep breath, my eyes lifting to the horizon.

Lord... I need Your voice here. I need Your discernment. You know my heart. You know what's going on inside it, even when I don't. So if this feeling I have isn't from You—then take it. Even if it breaks me a little, I surrender it to You.

But Lord... if this is from You—

Then may she be mine.

Johanna

I looked around and couldn't help but fall in love with the scenery. It was absolutely breathtaking. Towering pine trees surrounded the church, their trunks reaching high into the sky while the sun's rays streamed through the branches like golden ribbons. Across the horizon, majestic hills stretched wide, dressed in yellow-green grass that shimmered and danced with the breeze. Never in my life had I seen such beauty in person. This church truly found a heavenly place to call home.

"Johanna!" I turned and saw Shiela, one of the church workers, walking toward me with a bright smile. I had met her earlier when the church team was introduced. She was beautiful—someone I had quietly admired from the moment I saw her. Her energy was so joyful, so uplifting.

"Come on now, let's get changed. The service is going to start in thirty minutes," she said warmly as she stood beside me. Then she turned her eyes to the view. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It sure is," I replied, my gaze returning to the horizon. "I've never seen anything like this before—not in person."

She nodded. "That's true. I've been here many times, but my awe never fades. No matter how often I come, it's still just as beautiful."

She was right. Even if I saw this place a thousand times, I knew I'd never get tired of it.

"You're right..." I said thoughtfully. "Indeed, the heavens declare the glory of the Lord... Anyone who looks at creation like this wouldn't be able to deny that there has to be a great Designer behind it all."

"Amen," she whispered with a smile. "We'll have more time to enjoy this view later tonight. But for now, young lady—you better get changed."

I laughed and nodded, following her toward the pastoral house.

⸻

I slipped on my blazer just as I heard the emcee's voice echo through the area, announcing that the service would begin in five minutes. The mirror in front of me reflected my every movement as I composed myself and prepared to head out.

I paused for a moment and looked at myself—really looked. And again, I was confronted with how much had changed.

Just a few months ago, I was wearing oversized, tattered clothes—angry at the world, hardened, reckless. But now, standing here... everything about me felt new. Even the way I carried myself had changed.

I ran my fingers through my hair one last time, gave myself a quiet nod, and stepped out the door.

The sound of the congregation singing "Come Holy Spirit" washed over me, rich and full, like a flood of longing. It hit something deep within me.

After a series of testimonies, the emcee finally closed the time and introduced the guest speaker. Of course, as expected, it was Pastor Melchour.

I still didn't fully understand why, but the more time I spent around him, the more I found myself admiring him. He wasn't just knowledgeable—he was deeply anointed. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, that stirred something in people. Men like him must end up with some kind of superwoman to keep up, I thought, chuckling inwardly and quickly brushing the silly idea away.

We watched him approach the pulpit, and the moment he reached it, the atmosphere in the church shifted. There was a tangible stillness, a reverence. Then, just like the first time I heard him preach, his voice carried with power and conviction. It drew you in.

"Good morning, Brethren! It is a pleasure for me to have been invited again to this church to speak. I have always felt at home in this place and am thankful for the ever-hospitable people in this church that have openly received us here."

He paused, smiling warmly at the crowd before continuing.

"Brethren, when I first received a message from Pastor Allan about this activity and was informed that the theme was 'Receiving the promise of the Father', which was said in Luke 24:49, I could not deny that in my heart I felt a sudden stirring—a confirmation from the Holy Ghost that He will do something totally amazing today."

His voice echoed through the church, and the congregation responded with faith.

"Today, Brethren, all of you who have not yet received the promise of the Father, which was said in Luke 24:49, will have a chance to receive it today: the Baptism of the Holy Spirit."

That statement stirred something in me. Baptism of the Holy Spirit? I'd heard of it, sure—but what did it actually mean? Were we going to be baptized in water like I'd seen in movies?

I kept listening, every word pulling me in. And one by one, my questions began to be answered as he preached. He explained the difference between receiving the Holy Spirit in our hearts when we first believe, and being completely filled—engulfed—by Him.

The idea was radical to me. And yet... something inside me longed for it. I began to wonder—what would it feel like to be fully surrendered to the Holy Spirit? Wouldn't that be... wonderful? Beautiful? Powerful?

He continued, sharing stories of how miracles happen through people filled with the Holy Ghost—how Peter, once a coward, became a bold preacher after being baptized in the Spirit.

It made sense now. That's why so many Spirit-filled Christians move in miracles... I sat there, heart wide open, completely amazed. And more than anything—I wanted it. I wanted more of God. More than I had ever known.

Hope began to rise in me. Maybe I could experience more. Maybe this hunger I'd been feeling wasn't strange—it was divine. I remembered: if God could part the Red Sea, then surely He could do mighty things today, in and through me.

"If you have ever felt so desperate—desperate for God to use you—but have always been disappointed because you never had the courage to open your mouth and speak His Name in front of others... then I assure you, after you get baptized in the Holy Ghost, just as Peter did, you will have courage!"

The congregation erupted in applause.

"...Courage to speak the things of God! The Holy Spirit Himself will empower you and put the words into your mouth. If you've ever felt so desperate for the presence of the Lord to dominate your life—but always ended up disappointed because you didn't know where to start—then brethren, this might be the key to the outpouring of many miracles, signs, and wonders to take place to and through you!"

Every word hit me like a wave—deep, personal, piercing.

Yes... yes, I want that. I want to be used by God—mightily.

"Listen to this verse. In Mark 16:15-18, Jesus says...
And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned. And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover."

That was it. That was the key—to speak the name of Jesus with boldness, to live without fear. I didn't want to hide anymore. I was tired of being silent, scared of rejection, or afraid of what people would think.

I wanted people to see that God is real. That He's alive. That He can still change lives—like He did mine.

I wanted courage. Oh God, I want that courage.

My heart began to race. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled over as the hunger in my soul intensified. I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't. My desperation grew with every word he spoke.

I bowed my head, silently crying, pleading with the Lord: Oh God... please... I don't want to live in fear anymore. I want more of You. I want to receive... I want to receive!

"...And there is only one proof to know that we are baptized in the Holy Ghost, brothers and sisters..."

I lifted my head, breath held, waiting for what he would say next.

"Speaking in tongues."

Melchour

As I concluded the message, my eyes were drawn to Anna. She was leaning forward, her fist pressed to her chest. It was clear she was crying. Something about the way she responded moved me deeply. Her heart was soft before the Lord—open, hungry, teachable.

If only every believer had the same posture... what joy that would bring to every pastor. She reminded me of what it means to be truly yielded.

"All of you who want to receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit, I invite you to come forward," I declared. "The altar is open for you. Come—come and receive the fire of the Holy Ghost!"

One by one, people began to rise. I watched them—some wiping tears, others trembling as they made their way down the aisle. And there was Anna, right in the middle of them. Her eyes were full of desperation, her body trembling under the weight of conviction.

You could see it on her face. She wasn't here out of curiosity—she was here because she was desperate for more of God.

The altar quickly filled. As I stepped forward, I felt the anointing begin to flow. It started as a weight on my shoulders, and then I felt it surge through my arms, all the way to my fingertips. My hands tingled with fire.

Holy Spirit... it's time.

I began moving through the crowd, laying hands on each person, declaring the baptism of the Holy Ghost over them. And one after another, they fell—some shouting, some weeping, some trembling. But what marked them most was the evidence: they began to speak in new tongues.

Joy welled up inside me. It's one thing to preach a message, but it's another to watch hungry hearts being filled—completely overtaken by the Spirit of God.

Eventually, I reached Anna. She was on her knees, her hands lifted, her face soaked with tears. I knelt beside her and gently helped her to her feet.

"Are you ready to receive?" I asked, looking her straight in the eyes.

She nodded through trembling lips. "Yes..." she whispered.

"Open your mouth and begin to praise the Lord, Anna. Let the Spirit take control of your tongue," I instructed. As she lifted her voice in worship, I closed my eyes and began to pray:

May it be done to her according to Your will, O God.

"Right now, in the name of Jesus—who baptizes with fire and with the Holy Ghost—I declare: receive the power of the Holy Spirit!"

I laid my hand gently on her forehead, and instantly I felt the weight of God's presence press down. Her breathing grew heavy, and she began to sob louder. I continued to pray in tongues as her cries turned into shouts, her entire body trembling under the power of God.

And then, as I declared one final word of release, she fell back under the anointing.

And from her lips—came a new language.

Awe washed over me. God had done it again.