Boom Shakalah: The Day She Mocked the Spirit in Me

Series: The Truth My Mother Never Told – Entry 2

Let me start here:

I believe in the full gospel.
I believe in every gift of the Holy Spirit spoken of in Scripture—and more.
I believe in tongues. I believe in healing. I believe in discernment.
And I believe in the indwelling power of the Holy Spirit that comforts, convicts, and strengthens.

I don’t believe in performing.
I don’t believe in pretending.
And I don’t believe in mocking what is holy.

That’s why this moment hit so hard.

It started—believe it or not—with a kids drink.
My mother was upset after dinner, saying she didn’t get the drink she wanted. We had served water, but she wanted juice. She had juice earlier—but this moment wasn’t about hydration. It was about control.

She said, “I should get whatever drink I want.”
I asked calmly, “Did you get juice tonight?”
She said yes, but went on and on about other times she didn’t.
I said, “Just ask. If you get water and want something else, ask.”
That was too much for her.

Then my kids walked in and asked for a drink. It’s their drink, something small and just for them. She asked for one. I said, “No, that’s their drink. You have your own.”
She looked at me like I had slapped her.

She had bigger drinks in the fridge. I was going to get one for her. But it wasn’t about the drink—it was about the no. The boundary. The idea that someone else in the house had something she couldn’t have.
My sister offered more choices—orange juice or tea?
It didn’t help. Because people like my mother don’t want options. They want obedience. Options only prolong the meltdown.

As it escalated, I said calmly, “We’re not attacking you. We’re not ganging up on you. We’re speaking clearly. And yes—we can speak in tongues, too. That doesn’t mean we’re against you.”

And that’s when it came out of her mouth:
“Boom shakalah! Boom shakalah!”
Her attempt at mocking the Spirit.
She shook her shoulders. Made noises.
Laughed.

I felt like something sacred had just been stepped on.
Not because I’m overly sensitive.
Because I’m Spirit-filled.
And I know when something holy has been dishonored.

What Hurt More:

She wasn’t just mocking tongues.
She was mocking my relationship with God.
And she wasn’t the only one.

My kids hear her. They are being taught how to treat me inadvertently. Through her words and actions, they are downloading new information to process about mom and grandma. They are still impressionable and being influenced. There are many conversations about this. About what is true about people in their lives. I cannot take for granted that they know she is sick and has so much baggage. I want them to love her but know how to do that safely.

What My Husband Said:

My husband is a silent oak. Her outbursts are inconsequential for him. His coping strategy is to ignore her,

He told me to let it go.
To be quiet.
To move on.

But I can’t move on when someone spits on the altar I kneel at.
I can’t just “let it go” when the Spirit I cry out to in the garden is being turned into a joke in my own living room.

I am not sure if that is the way Jesus would have me handle this type of insult. I know the bible speaks of tuning the other cheek, sometimes Jesus escaped from the intent of people who meant him harm as well.

What I Know Now:

Mocking the Spirit is no joke.
It is a dangerous line to cross.
And it always reveals more about the mocker than the one being mocked.

It tells me their eyes are closed.
Their ears are deaf.
Their hearts are hardened.

🌱 And Still—I Pray.

I pray in the language of heaven.
I sing when I’m alone.
I laugh with my sister.
I plant joy in a house where someone is always trying to pull it up by the root.

She can say “boom shakalah.”
But I’ll keep speaking words she doesn’t understand— grace, peace, and hope
because God does.