and it moves me again...

I missed church a few weeks ago because I wasn't feeling well... and I missed a really great sermon on baptism.  How do I know? Because Laura and Camden both came home talking about it.  About who we are, and whose we are.  That thought was spoken again this past Sunday... during a baptism that touched my heart and soul.

Leafing through the bulletin before church, I saw her name.  I craned my neck up a few rows to see if there were others with them.  Did they have a granddaughter being baptized?   But no, it was just she and her husband, sitting it the very first row.  And when it was time, she stood there at the altar, humbly, with her cropped silver hair and a string of pearls draped down her royal blue dress. Her husband stood close beside her, one hand on her shoulder. To steady, to comfort...and perhaps, to help usher her in. I wanted to know the whys and the hows... and smiled when Pastor shared the simple, short story. The sermon, that I missed, nudged her awake in the middle of the night... and she, who is an active part of our church, was brought to wonder if she had ever been baptized.  The bright of day, and the information found, brought her to the altar... to be washed and made new. A child of God, with silver in her hair.  And when the water was blotted away, the question of whose she was was blotted away with it.

Baptism moves me.  To see a tiny baby welcomed into the kingdom of God gives me such a hope! But somehow, this baptism gave just a little more. And I was reminded of another baptism, that happened just about a year ago. 

And now why do you wait?
Rise and be baptized and wash away your sins,
calling on His name.

Acts 22:16