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Over ten years ago, Laurie and I taught English in China. (We were also there for just a year in 2001.) On one very special evening, we prayed for several young ladies to receive the baptism in the Holy Spirit. The prayer time began when I laid hands on and prayed for a young lady whom I will call Mary, in order to protect her identity. I closed my eyes, put my hand on the top of her head and—clunk—felt a bonk on my forehead. I opened my eyes and saw that Mary had collapsed onto the floor of our apartment. She began wailing loudly, like she had lost a beloved friend or relative. Since there was a Chinese guard only a few yards from our front door, this was a concern to us. Thankfully, there was no ominous knock on the door.