Tongues

One night in October of 1970, quite without warning my normal, somewhat routine, prayer was radically interrupted. I suddenly began speaking forth words of uncertain sound and form. I didn't start out by consciously muttering a few senseless syllables which then gave way to a more coherent linguistic experience. It was more like a spiritual invasion in which the Spirit intruded on my life, interrupted my speech patterns and "gave utterance" (Acts 2:4).
There was a profound intensification of my sense of God's nearness and power. I distinctly remember feeling a somewhat detached sensation, as if I were separate from the one speaking. I had never experienced anything remotely similar to that in all my life. While this linguistic flood continued to pour forth I kept thinking in one language while speaking in another.
My reaction to something so unfamiliar and new was a strange mixture of both fear and exhilaration. I don't recall precisely how long it lasted, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes. I was confused, but at the same time felt closer to God than ever before. At the time I didn't have theological categories to describe what happened. In hindsight, I'm more inclined to view it as a powerful filling of the Holy Spirit rather than Spirit baptism (although I'm open to being convinced otherwise). Having said that, I must confess that when I look for words to describe it the only thing that comes to mind is immersion and saturation, a sense of being inundated or flooded with the presence of God.

Sam Storms, Convergence, p. 34-35.