I had, had a bad weekend.  My 20 year old daughter had dumped on me Saturday morning for not “caring or listening” then sent me away. My daughter can be difficult.  Not surprising…she is her father’s kid.  It’s a tough row to hoe.  But I never give up on her. She is my last little bit of family.

My girlfriend  bailed on me in the early morning hours because I could not sleep and was on the couch downstairs all night and she needed to go be with her own daughter and grand children this Sunday. I admittedly was deeply depressed, had been quite a grump on Saturday after getting scolded by a child, and not much good company to anyone.  She felt she was not doing me any good.

I knew today was Baptism day. Originally my girlfriend who has been a spiritual guide for me in much of this.. and daughter  were all in with me to do it. I was concerned and wanted to bail, Girlfriend had reconsidered at the moment, Daughter simply stayed at her boyfriend’s and overslept.

I was one hurting puppy. I had been terminated a month ago for having a bad attitude. (I didn’t… I love what I do helping people…but that was an easy way for them to dispense with me) My work is not easy to find just now. and I will soon be unable to pay my bills. I have given much of this over to God so I am not panicked like I used to be….. but i am deeply sad… licking my wounds feeling alone, abandoned. Feeling awful about my child’s continuing assaults and verbal abuse. I was so lost. I wanted to give up. I am ready to come home Lord. but I promised my sister for my daughter’s sake I would never again try to do that at my own hand. So I do not entertain such thoughts for long.

I was fearful of getting baptized. It would be so much easier to wallow and feel unsupported and not go. I keep reading and hearing about this nirvana that sweeps over you when you accept Christ as your Savior. It just wasn’t happening. Maybe I expected something like a good drug high or something.  Maybe this was not the time for me to do this either. I certainly don’t want to be a fraud in front of God if I cannot commit… if I cannot “feel” it.

But I have been reading Not a Fan. I knew in my heart that this was a challenge. A test. Something so much easier not to do than to do. I have to step into my faith before I can reap any support or benefit.

So I gathered clothing to change into. Grabbed a towel. I got my little worship binder where I keep my weekly notes from church. It was grey and nasty out, drizzly and the clouds looked even worse heading down the 20 miles of highway to church. I said to myself “If God wants to baptize me in the pouring rain.. then so be it.” I have no other real options for salvation.

I hate driving alone to church since it take almost a quarter tank up and back and I am unemployed just now. I put on the Christian station and usually it comes in poorly and sounds more like static and noise to me with my hearing loss. But I could make out some familiar songs for a change this morning.

I am not like the others at church, I do not know all the lyrics by heart. I have to read them from the screens but I love most of them and sing them with all I am. The musician in me sometimes thinks about what it would be like to be filled with the Holy Spirit and maybe even write a song or two in this genre someday.

So in my deep blues I tried to not ruminate over all that was poor in my life at  this moment. I kept telling myself that I just need to not be a fan but sincerely try to be a follower. Turn to Christ. I should be grateful; I had my health and a car and gas to get to church and that this Baptism wasn’t about a family event or showboating for the world but an internal thing. Something I needed to give to Christ and get from Christ. Deeply personal. This should be joyous. Joy was not easy to find this morning.  I sent a text to girlfriend and my daughter telling them I was heading to church and had my towel. I hoped they would understand I had committed to going and getting baptized. I wondered if either of them might just show up to share this with me. But I was doing it for me not them.

I had no clue how the logistics of Baptism at this church works. Sure I knew they had towels and changes of clothes and such for those who were suddenly inspired to go. I had seen it on TV one weekend when I could not go to church in person. I also watched it this summer in person. There is a big pool of sorts nestled up in some rocks just to the side of the church entrance. I got there early with my bag of clothes and towel and my bottle of water I bring and my binder. I felt awkward carrying a plastic bag into church so I left it in the car. I always try to get there early. I need to sit relatively close to see and hear and I hate being in a row. I like to sit at the front row of the second chunk of seating so I am not in the way as people move in and out of the row. I don’t have to move down to make more room as the church fills. I am a creature of habit. I am the same way at the movies. Have to sit in the exact middle there.

So I now think about all I have to do. Leave my phone in the car. should I wear my watch? yes. I left my wallet and put my offering in my purple t-shirt pocket. I will need to remember to take off my watch and hearing aids and glasses before I go up. I will wear my James Avery cross pinky ring. This is a lot of work and planning for something so simple. Lots of reasons to resist. But I don’t. I work to make this happen. I want to be a follower… not a fan.

As I walk in, there is an angelic smiling face at the welcome arch.( very much reminiscent of the first time I ever entered the church during the first pouring rain last fall… a angelic warm smiling face welcomed me and helped me figure out where I was and what was going on handing me CD’s and making me feel so very sincerely welcomed. God bless these folks!)  I told the young lady directly I wanted to be baptized today and did not know what to do. She led me to the community center counter. There they gave me a name badge, asked me if I had “registered” and I said no. I said I had just spoken with Pastor Mark  about it briefly the week before. Pastor Mark is not always an easy guy to find. I was grateful his dad, Pastor Damon Shook, had helped me find him the week before between services.

I saw Teri a director for the First Impressions team. I knew her from when I had volunteered at Easter to greet during a service.  Teri  told me I need not register but I should fill out a card with my name, email and such. I asked her about the change of clothes and towel. She said  “You know we are casual here… bring your bag”.  So I went back to my car and got my bag. I noticed no one else with such stuff. I felt silly. I was not gonna bring this into the worship hall.( I still feel a bit weird about bringing food and drink in actually.  Too many years of formal church as a child I guess.)  Again the angelic teen came to my rescue and put the bag behind a counter for me to get after the service.

I got two kolaches from the church snack bar since I take meds in the morning and need to eat before long. I made my way in to the worship hall.  Ahhhh good my regular seat was not yet taken! but I was all alone and that felt odd. I looked down at the program for today. Hmm not Mark Shook our regular Pastor. I wondered if he was even gonna be a part of the Baptism. Today’s message would be from that tall thin young guy from Waco who did a good job of teaching in a warm and often humorous way. Well this was God’s thing so my job is to go with the flow. I surrendered to whatever God had in store for me next. I had packed the bag made the drive and wrestled with the logistics of the bag and towel now I was safe in the fellowship hall. My job was to sing and pray and give myself over.

I sat at the “bucket” end of the aisle. I like to do that because I can put my offering into the envelope and put it in the offering bucket early on as I get settled in. then I just pass the bucket over. Creature of habit. Some guy was holding like 5 seats at the other end of my row leaving about 4 seats between him and I. A middle aged couple came before long and chose the seats one seat away from me. She smiled and said good morning to me. I smiled and returned the greeting. It made me feel a little better. I was concerned I was sitting there looking dour and I did not want to put off that kind of vibe.

Our church band is awesome. Donald and Robin and the others whose names I do not know, really share their faith through the music. It is inspiring. It touches me deeply each time they play. I want to tell them this. It means so much to me. The singing begins and It must have been the second song in…One I had not heard or sung before…

“You Steady My Heart” by Kari Jobe.

Wish it could be easy

Why is life so messy

Why is pain a part of us

There are days I feel like

Nothing ever goes right

Sometimes it just hurts so much

But You’re here

You’re real

I know I can trust You

Even when it hurts

Even when it’s hard

Even when it all just falls apart

I will run to You Cause I know that You are

Lover of my soul
Healer of my scars
You steady my heart

I’m not gonna worry
I know that You got me
Right inside the palm of your hand
Each and every moment
What’s good and what gets broken
Happens just the way that You plan

And I will run to You
And find refuge in Your arms
And I will sing to You
Cause of everything You are
You steady my heart
You steady my heart

Nothing could have spoken to my soul more deeply then these lyrics. I was not alone. My whole church was singing and someone else had felt and written what I was feeling! The lyrics guided me to where I needed to be.And my heart felt a bit more steady. Really. Nice. It didn’t feel as bad now to be me. I think I have found a new anthem as “emo” as that may sound. I quickly scribbled the name of the song into my binder as it flashed on the screen.

Pastor Mark is there and welcomes us to take communion!  Yay.  I felt more at ease knowing he is not half a world away. He is the reason I have not missed almost any services since my first day attending last year. I don’t know why I like this guy so much but I do. He explains things simply. He is a regular person. I trust him.

Communion is important to me. I miss it when I attend online. Another song and it is usually one about summoning the Holy Spirit to us. For the first time I put my hands out in front of me when i sang one of the verses. Not over my head like some but out… so God knew I was ready to receive Him.  It felt good to do. I was not shy or scared. I love this place because it is the first church I’ve been to where communion comes BEFORE the message. Communion first, really spiritually prepares me for the message.

The sermon title was about Insomnia. Something I know far too well. The Minister, started speaking about that fear we get when we wake up or cannot sleep and wonder about challenges we face and fear.   “What if we don’t have what it takes?” He spoke about failing as a parent. Right up my alley!  These words were for me! It’s tough being a single Dad and tougher when the child is a challenging one. Tougher still when my elder daughter has written me off years ago as a teen. I know daily,  the feeling of failing as a parent, failing as a spouse, failing to keep good employment. failing as a partner. My track record speaks volumes about not having what it takes.Insomnia Talk 1 COF Messages

He told the story of David and Goliath in such a new and revealing way. It’s not about the sword you carry or the protection you wear. Do we have what it takes? the answer is No!  We do not, plain and simple.

It is not about what we have…but what we believe.  Where we put ourselves. It tied in so well with Not a Fan  … not just believing but following. Taking risks, having faith.  It is about being in the palm of God’s hand and knowing that and trusting that. It echoed the lyrics of the song to me. Being in the palm of God’s hand. I found peace in all of this. The story touched me, the explaining was simple, and I connected to it.  Goliath seemed to be far too much for any one man to overcome. But David KNEW he was with God and that made the difference.

Now I would not say I was swept away by the Holy Spirit that day but I left that worship hall with a heart so much lighter and I could feel the presence. My problems were not solved but I was no longer alone.  I was ready to be baptized. I was glad I had come. I wanted to be washed clean and start anew. I am ready to change and commit to Jesus. I know I will stumble every day. but to commit was to not stop trying and I know I am ready for this. Even though it will be hard, messy and at times and nothing seems to go right.

I got my bag and headed out on the line and lo and behold.. there were other people with bags! I was no longer alone.  Sounds silly perhaps, but not to me. It was no longer raining. We waited a while before Pastor Mark showed up. I was committed and determined.  No fear or thoughts of giving up. Eager. People on line were nice, other ministers were there. I do not know them but they had warm smiles. Sincere ones. The pastor’s wife was at the head of the line. This was so reassuring. Pastor Laura Shook is a warm intelligent spiritual woman in her own self. She took my card and asked me if I was with anyone. I said no, so she moved me up to second in line beside a tall gent named David. She said we would go together as the first two. David joked and said he was not planning to hold my hand I smiled and let him know that was fine with me.

Before long Pastor Mark was there. Laura announced our names and we went into the pool. They showed us a way we can hold our arm and cover our mouth and then Mark said the blessing. I dipped back. I felt the water wash over me. I felt strong arms supporting me and it was done. I was cleansed. I have given myself to Him here at 60 years in. I stepped out of the water it was not cold in or out of the water. I was handed a white towel. I dried my face and carefully stepped down dripping wet.

I made it back to the column where my bag and glasses and hearing aids were. I began the long trudge back into the church to the men’s room to get changed into something dry to drive home. Along the way I pass the snack bar and a gentleman smiles at me and tells me there is cake to celebrate! I smile and thank him. Cake. What a nice touch! Like a birthday! I guess it was.

Logistics kick in again. my purple tee is bleeding all over the nice white towel they gave me. How odd. I knew this shirt has been through the laundry several times but there it is, looking like wine as it drips on the bathroom floor. I get undressed and dry and clean up the floor and go back out and toss their towel out on a table nearby.  Now I could have just headed to the car and headed home. But I thought, cake, I earned it. It is for me. It is part of this ritual. I went back to the snack bar and took a small piece of cake and found a bench and ate it.

It became a quiet moment to reflect on it all.

This was not a good drug high. It was peace. It was quiet. It was not feeling the center of the spotlight, but knowing I am not alone. My job is to straighten out my life. Put away lust. Curb my tongue. Put away judgments. Live more like… what would Jesus do? Learn the scriptures better. Get back to earning money and give a good 10% or more back to this place that is rescuing me. Commit to losing weight. Ask for forgiveness each time I stumble. Continue to pray for strength and wisdom and the healing of others and more peace in the world. Share the Word and open others to it. If I do these things, God will provide. Jesus will save me. I guess all the pieces were always inside me, But I always fear failing. So I pray for help with that.

I make it to my car with my sopping wet bag. and I am at peace. I drive the 20 miles back into town and for the first few miles there is a preacher speaking on the radio. then the music. And I know the songs and they seem clearer to me. When  I get off the freeway there is a man with a cardboard sign at one of the intersections. He is two lanes over and the light has just turned green. I have very little in my wallet, having given my offering to the church. I pull over into the gas station and as I am doing that, the man has made his way to the first lane. I have 3 dollars left. I pull out two and roll down my window as I make the circle back onto my drive home. He is decent looking fellow with soft eyes. I hand him the 2 dollars feeling like I am handing it directly to Christ in a way. I say “God loves you”. He says thank you and it sounds sincere. I feel good inside. Not all healed and better.. but like I am on the right path.

That was my Sunday morning.

My Baptism.

I am grateful for everyone who helped me get here.

Footnotes:

In sharing this with a Christian friend later in the week she remarked “Sometimes the Holy Spirit is not a tidal wave but a soft whisper.”  I agree,  I think we have to be listening and paying attention.

I attended church the next weekend  with everyone;  daughter, her boyfriend, my girlfriend and my grandson. (Well he goes to Sunday school at age 4, but he loves it!)  They played that song again and I cried, i mean tears streaming down my face and I held both my daughter and my girlfriend as I sang with all my heart. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is way more than a whisper.