Page 80 - The Gospel Truth About Death and Dying_Neat

It was like each person there was all alone, and the only thing

that mattered to them was God. They were screaming out their

praises.

The cries of devotion and pleading to God were sensational.

I was able to walk around unnoticed, and watch the people.

They were so involved in their worship, no one saw me. Many
people had tears streaming down their faces.

Two men on one side of the room were prostrate on the floor

moaning. One was pounding his fists on the floor. Many had

pained expressions on their faces. Many were kneeling.

Most faces were wet from sweat. Some people tore their shirts

open they were so hot. Others were pulling at their hair. Many

had hands reaching high, as if trying to grab hold of God.

Some embraced each other, hugging hard, and sobbing bitterly.

THEN FINALLY… I was able to talk to one person briefly.

I was able to briefly gain the attention of one woman. Our eyes

met, and in that we were close, I asked her how often this type

of service occurred. She said, “Oh, every day! In fact, much of
the day! We have this type of service in all of our churches.”

Then she was lost again in a type of religious agony, — even

desperate in her worship of God.

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