Fear is the beginning of wisdom. (Proverbs 9:10)
My friend Mona had given me a new, more pressing reason to think about baptism. A short time after our conversation of Heaven, hell, and being a Christian, I told my mom I wanted to be baptized. I told her at church on Sunday morning—no time for discussion. I completely caught her off guard. Honestly, I’d thought she’d have a bigger reaction. I soon understood why she was holding out on me.
My mom was the one on the other side of that baptismal water, holding out the towel for me, open arms, waiting to enfold me. I came out of that glorious water completely pure and sinless. For the first time in my life, I knew I had no sin. What an amazing, unbelievable feeling that was! In my young, immature heart, I vowed to remain sinless, too.
As I walked up the steps toward my mother’s loving arms, I asked her, “Are you happy?”
Her response, “I just hope you were ready.”
Well, that deflated my pure, sinless ego right quick and in a hurry. Talk about someone peeing in your Cheerios! I didn’t know why she would say it. I thought she’d been waiting and waiting for the day I’d be baptized. I thought it would make her happy, but I was wrong in my thinking that day. The inciting force of my sudden baptism was the wrong motivation for my actions, or so I thought for most of my life.
In church, people always want to know your story. You know, the reason you committed your life to Christ—the moment you chose Him. Truth be told, I never had that one moment. I never had the before and after of choosing Christ. Why? Because I had always known Jesus. My whole life I knew I belonged to Him. I was taught all the Sunday school Bible stories. I knew Jesus died on the cross so we could be saved. I knew I needed to be baptized someday. Maybe I had put it off because I knew I wouldn’t get through my teenage years without sinning, and I would want to wash those sins away as well. There was so much I needed to learn. I was a child of God, but immature in my faith. Of course. I was only thirteen.
I had gone to church my whole life, but I didn’t get it. I can’t ever remember any preacher explaining WHY Jesus had had to die in order to save me. I didn’t understand that baptism wasn’t just a one-time bath that washed away my previous sins. I got it, but I really didn’t get it.
It would be a long time before I would truly understand. I’m still learning, but looking back on my baptism, though I realize I may not have done it for all the right reasons, I remember the feeling I had coming up out of that water. My logic and reasoning might have been a little off, but my heart was right on track.
To be continued…
Walker Lane 