I remember distinctly the day I was baptized. I was 18 years old. A large group of us in a country field stood in front of a large pond. We all lined up and then took turns being baptized through immersion into the cold pond water. I remember it being a fantastic experience. I was giving myself over to God.
Here we are many years later. Over those years, there has been great joy, lots of mistakes, and hopefully learning from each of them, the pain of illness and death, the birth of two beautiful girls, and the gift of Caleb, my grandbaby. Today I struggle with the pain of an unwanted separation and pending divorce, which to me, is like a death but with intent. Through this trauma, I have a greater appreciation of the gift of friends and the increasing knowledge of God’s love for all of us.
Yesterday I went to Cross Pointe Church. I went by myself, and I was greeted by many folks around me that were very friendly and welcoming. I enjoyed the music and the sermon. I had noticed a large, what I would call, water trough on stage. I assumed it was a sermon prop. As I listened to Steve preach, I forgot about the trough.
The service seemed to be coming to an end. Little did I know it was not the end; it was kind of like the beginning. We were invited to come up for baptism. I wanted to go, but all these excuses came to my mind…..