Faith
The water was cold, the kind of cold that vacuums the last bits of oxygen right out of your lungs and makes you gasp for more. I stepped in first and then she descended down the several stairs and into the frigid waters of the baptistery beside me. I wasn’t sure if she was shaking from the water or from the fear or from both. I tried suppressing the tears that quickly gained momentum behind my eyelids.
We had talked about this day before. For a couple of years her interest peaked and waned and peaked again. She was yearning for commitment and wanted access to a deeper spiritual dimension. Public baptism was her way of obeying that call and illuminating the narrow path of a road less traveled. She was asking for answers. She was knocking at his door. She was seeking him. And, in the midst of it all, God found her.
Jesus said it would be that way. The gates of heaven would forever remain elusive unless all became like little children, he proclaimed. What does youth possess that age distorts? How do we again become like little children? How do we recapture the innocence of those early years? Most of all, how do we destroy the pride that creates such catastrophic walls?
I plunged her under. She floated a bit, then hobbled to regain her footing and arose quickly as her Mother snapped a picture from up above. The tears erupted. I hugged my daughter tight. Her nervous smile was confirmation she knew something grand had occurred, but wasn’t quite sure what.
Vivid images flooded my own mind and soul. I recalled the day she was born. I remembered looking through the glass of the hospital nursery and watching her trying to make some sense of this new world. I remembered her first, muffled sounds. I remembered the sweet smell of her powdered flesh as I held her close to my warmer body. What I remembered most, however, was feeling her pointed arrow penetrate the center of my hardened heart.
And now, eleven years later, she had pierced it once more. I had never been more proud.
She mentioned often in the days leading up to this moment that she knew God loved her and she wanted him to know how much she loved him back. Funny thing though, he already knew. He always did.
Her passion made me want to find that place again for myself. It made me want to discover those still waters and greener pastures. I wanted him to find me again and restore my soul because life has done well at obscuring his more regal destination.
The road to God is narrow and winding and seems fraught with peril at every twist. But, maybe it's not. Maybe it just appears that way to prideful travelers stubbornly using their own distorted map instead of simply stopping and asking for directions. Nevertheless, it truly is a fortunate man who makes just the right turns that, in the end, lead him gently back to where he first began…
Matthew 7:7
7 "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
Luke 15:20,23-24
20 So he got up and went to his father. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him...23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.
Matthew 18:1-3
1 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" 2 He called a little child and had him stand among them. 3 And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 7:13-14
13 "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. 14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.
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Beautiful Story Jeff. it took me back a few years to when I shared the same privelege with my daughters. I now await the day, when I might repeat this same blessing with my Grandchildren! Thanks for sharing.
Nice.... nothing like children to soften hearts! What a joy to get to baptise your own children.... I was able to do that many year ago.
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