She spoke in tongues. Some crazy language that brought her closer to God. Up there in front of the church she stood; rattling on like nobody’s business; arms stretched out like she was receiving the holy ghost. Like she was filled with the spirit.
And there were others up in front as well; singing and clapping their hands as the band played a rockin’ version of The Old Rugged Cross. People holding hymnals, reaching up to the sky, and the preacher man waving the Holy Bible over the crowd. Saying, Come forth sinners and be saved. Death to sin and alive to Christ.
The minister ran up and down the aisles looking for non-believers. Seeking out those who had only come for the potluck afterwards. Food prepared by good Christian women of the South. Fried chicken, potato salad, and cornbread so sweet it’d make a dead man smile.
In the middle of all this Brother Paul had a vision. Said it wouldn’t be long til our Lord Jesus Christ was back on earth to separate the chaff from the wheat. Said that every one would be judged by the son of God.
Then he talked of the fires of Hell. How we’d all perish if we weren’t saved. Saved by the blood of the lamb. Having our sins drowned in the river.
One by one they came up to confess their sins and be baptised. They went under the muddy water and came up with a glow ’bout em. Parents were proud, wives pleased, and men were mad, crazed with what had just happened.
She spoke in tongues. Some crazy language that brought her closer to God. ‘Least that’s what they said.