A
few weeks ago, as I sat on the handicapped pew with my Beloved in this
precious church, I heard Pastor Cotten say something that shook me to my
core. He said, "Remember Your Baptism". I didn't hear another word he said after that.
I sat there struggling to remember the details of my Baptism. I was
12.....I remember my parents saying it was "time" for me to be
baptized....I remember standing at the front of the church with several
of my friends facing the congregation and agreeing to the 28 fundamental
beliefs of the church I grew up in.......but what disturbs me now, was I
don't remember feeling anything..."special". Being baptized to
me then was like moving from the Children's Class to the Youth Class.
It was expected. It was the next step. It was what you did when you
were 12.
This memory has been haunting me. Did the sheer act of putting on the
white robe, stepping into the waters of that baptismal tank, holding my
nose and hearing the words, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost" save me? I assumed at the time it did.....and it would be many years before I realized it actually didn't.
I wasn't saved when I was 12. I'm pretty sure it happened when I was
48....in my living room....sitting in my favorite chair....early one
morning, reading about how all Jesus really wanted from me was a
relationship. It was when I felt the pain of the scars on his hands and
feet that morning like they were my own. It was when I heard Him tell
me I was His and He was mine.
I've lived the bulk of my life assuming I was "saved" when in reality, I never "knew" God. I knew "of" God. I knew facts and figures, but I didn't know Him personally.
But I'm proud to say today, with enormous tears of gratitude in my eyes,
that I do now know Him personally...and He knows me! It is my
sincerest belief that my salvation wasn't based on being submerged in a
pool of water....but maybe....just maybe....our baptism is our "new-parent" gift to God after He birthed us the gift of Life.
No comments:
Post a Comment