After a month of waiting the day had finally arrived and my family was all busy preparing themselves for the gathering. My father had arrived home early from work, which he rarely ever did, and went straight to the shower. My mother had already fed my sister and I and was now attempting to bind us into our dress clothes. She was about half ready herself when my father emerged from his bedroom in slacks and a sports jacket, clean shaven and filling the air with his deep voice and musky cologne.
“It is almost time to go,” he joyfully bellowed through the house.
Mom called back from where she was dressing us, “Honey, will you please come and help the kids finish getting ready while I go put my makeup on?”
With that, my mother disappeared and a moment later my dad walked in to supervise. His big smile cast warm light across us both and we latched tightly to his legs. His wide hand pressed against my back in an embrace that saturated me in joy. My sister looked up at him and chirped out, “Hi Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you too. Now you two need to get ready, so get to it. While you finish dressing I am going to go over some things about tonight.”
We sat down and pulled on our shoes as he spoke, “Tonight we are going to church because a prophet is in town and he is a very special person. God uses him to speak to people. God also does amazing miracles through him.”
“Miracles? What kind of miracles?”
“Well Peter, some people have been healed of headaches, others have been healed of a disease called cancer and sometimes, when the Spirit of the Lord is really strong in a place, other things happen.”
Rebecca asked, “What other things Daddy?”
“We will have to wait and see. Keep your eyes open and believe and you may see something amazing tonight.”
We arrived at the church building in the comfort of our Ford SUV and found the parking lot filled with more cars than I had ever seen there before. We had to park in a neighborhood nearby and we walked to the gathering together, hand in hand, kicking happily through the broad crisp fall leaves that carpeted the ground.
The inside of the church was warm and filled with the smells of hot coffee, fresh pastries and the new books being sold by the sanctuary doors. Hundreds of conversations filled the air with a hum and energy that unified the individuals into a single mass that agitated and throbbed as it waited for its time with the prophet.
Five minutes before the hour, the doors opened and we all shuffled in.
Mom gave me and my sister a squeeze on the hand, “Mind yourself and keep still.”
As we took our seats at the end of the aisle my dad leaned over and whispered, “Keep your eyes open for miracles.”
Both Rebecca and I were so excited we thought we wouldn’t blink the entire time. We conspired to have a starring contest as a warm up and tried to keep from giggling at the bugged eyes we saw gazing back at us, but we couldn’t. After getting in trouble with that we decided...