For as long as I can remember, I have longed to know God more fully. I have pursued God through the study of Scripture, our “only perfect rule for faith, doctrine, and conduct” as we state in our Covenant Affirmations. I have sought God through fellowship in the church, small groups, Bible studies, and parachurch ministries. I have tried to live out my faith through acts of service and a commitment to justice. All of these are good and faithful ways to know and follow Christ. And yet, I have continued to long for more.
When Jesus was asked in Matthew 22 about the greatest commandment, he replied that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, and mind. We often talk about loving God with our minds—through study and learning—and with our hearts—through love, mercy, and community. But how do we love God with our souls? How do we allow God to meet us in the deep places of our being?
It seems to me that within the Trinity, we sometimes engage less deeply with the Holy Spirit. For various reasons—some historical, some theological—we may be hesitant, even afraid, of what it means to encounter the Spirit. Here are a few stories of how God has met me in my hunger and thirst for more.
What if, in your church this Sunday, or in your own time alone with God, the Holy Spirit showed up in an unexpected way? Would you be open to it? Do you have the courage to ask for more?
When I was seventeen, I became curious about the gifts of the Spirit. I grew up in a Covenant church where the Holy Spirit was certainly present and taught, but I began hearing from friends outside my church about spiritual experiences that were unfamiliar to me. I found a book by R.A. Torrey on the Holy Spirit in our church library and read it eagerly. One night, after praying that God would give me spiritual gifts, I woke up acutely aware of a presence in my room. Though I could not see anyone with my eyes, I sensed a figure standing near my bed—a tall figure in a dark coat and hat. I didn’t know if the presence was from God or not, but I began praying fervently. As my fear subsided, I believed I was encountering the presence of the Holy Spirit.
The next morning I continued reading Torrey’s book. He encouraged readers who desired the gift of tongues to simply “utter forth.” I did so and found myself praying in a way I did not understand. That became, and continues to be, part of my personal and private prayer life—a way to pray when I have no words left or when I do not know what to pray.
Over time I have discovered that the Holy Spirit also meets us in quieter ways—through silence, solitude, and contemplative prayer. During my studies in spiritual direction at North Park Theological Seminary, I was introduced to the practice of centering prayer by our spiritual direction instructor Ken Lund. It was the middle of the Covid-19 pandemic, and our class was meeting virtually. Ken invited us to sit quietly in God’s presence and to choose a sacred word like “peace” or “Jesus” to gently return to when thoughts or feelings intruded. He described intrusive thoughts as feathers that soon float out of sight.
For five minutes, we sat in silence—a type of prayer I had never experienced before. That simple practice has become an anchor in my life. Centering prayer has transformed me (and, according to my husband, even “improved” me!). Thomas Keating describes centering prayer as “divine therapy,” and I have found that to be true.
In October 2023, the Seattle Chinese Covenant Church, the Top Church (Xindina Covenant Church) of Taiwan, and the Pacific Northwest Conference hosted the “Fire Conference” near my home in Bellevue, Washington. This annual conference, which originated in Asia, has grown to include thousands of participants and is known for sparking renewal and revival in churches.
When I learned the conference was being held nearby, I felt prompted—perhaps even pushed—by the Holy Spirit to attend. For me, it was the first time I had seen the Covenant engage in an event that focused so intentionally on the work of the Holy Spirit. Throughout the years, I sought out similar events outside of the Covenant because of my hunger for deeper spiritual experiences.
One part of the conference focused on healing prayer. Reverend MaoSong Chang shared stories of praying for physical healing, especially for people with back pain or uneven leg length. As he spoke, I knew that described me—my left leg was about a quarter inch shorter than my right, and I wore a heel lift to prevent back problems. That day, attendees with leg length discrepancies were invited forward for prayer. That was my Holy Spirit cue, so I went forward.
Reverend Chang gently held my heels and prayed. I didn’t feel anything unusual, but afterward I faced a choice: Would I continue wearing my heel lift, or would I trust that something had changed? I chose to take out the heel lift. During worship, I noticed a warm sensation in my left leg that lasted about thirty minutes. The next morning, as I stretched, I saw that my ankles lined up evenly for the first time in years. A tender spot appeared on my foot for a few days, and I wondered whether my leg had physically lengthened or if I was imagining it. Weeks later, during an unrelated physical therapy appointment, I asked the therapist to check. My legs measured the same length.
In John 14 Jesus tells his disciples that he is going to prepare a place for them and promises that the Holy Spirit—the Advocate—will come. He says, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father” (v. 12, NRSV). Jesus invites us not only to believe but to live fully alive in him.
Perhaps spiritual gifts like tongues, physical healing, or contemplative prayer practices feel unfamiliar or even uncomfortable for you. It’s true that many faithful Christians live beautiful, vibrant lives without these particular experiences. But I also wonder whether some of us feel dry, spiritually weary, or disconnected because we’ve ignored or dismissed the mysteries the Holy Spirit has to offer?
I offer these stories as examples of what it’s like to see more of Jesus and embrace a life fulling lived. As Jesus said, “Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:19).
Is God glorified in these experiences? I hope so. Has my soul been renewed by these encounters? Absolutely—and I continue to long for more.
What if, in your church this Sunday, or in your own time alone with God, the Holy Spirit showed up in an unexpected way? Would you be open to it? Do you have the courage to ask for more?
May it be so.
