Today we were surrounded by family as my youngest chose to be baptized and take upon her the name of Jesus Christ. She is 8 now, and has been anxiously and excitedly waiting for this day for years!
We chose to have her baptismal service at one of our church buildings close to the rehab center in Dallas, so that Randy could attend. That meant that it was VERY FAR from all the people we love back home. I knew that my parents, grown kiddos and my Texas sister and her family would join us…they’ve always been my biggest cheerleaders. The event was tender, intimate, and relatively short, considering the planning it took to coordinate. It was bitter-and-sweet as Randy, (who had planned for years to be the one baptizing our little girl), watched our youngest son take his place in the water beside her. I’m so grateful to be married to a godly man…and possibly even more grateful that he and I were blessed with godly sons to follow in his footsteps. I thought my momma heart would burst.
In a very short time, the most important part of the day was done! That made for a full day of food, and family time. It’s just what this doctor ordered, and exactly what Randy needed. My whole family does a great job making Randy feel a part of everything, and as normal as possible. Our boys are super strong, and did all the heavy lifting…hallelujah…my back needed a break! I haven’t seen Randy laugh so much since he was the one cracking the jokes, back before his heart stopped. He sure loves these kiddos of ours, and I thank the Lord daily for all this family he perfectly placed me in.
As I reflected on this special day, what touched me the most, was the surprise attendance of dear friends who traveled HOURS to be with us for that 30 minutes of our life, at the church, for our little girl’s baptism. As each family trickled into the baptismal room, I was stunned at their sacrifice, and what it said about their love for our family. What did we ever do to deserve that kind of love and loyal friendship? I can’t recall a thing. Each family there, are friends that we have grown to love as we have worshiped and served side by side over the years, in our congregation. Each was dressed in their Sunday best on a Saturday morning, hours from their homes and to-do lists. The significance of their presence was not wasted on me. Not a one of them could come back to the apartment with us, so our visit with them was ridiculously short, but the impact they made on my heart will be eternal. Their presence was a precious gift, because it came with substantial sacrifice of their TIME. At 45, I’m still learning to be a “grown up”…and this was indelible lesson about true love, and true giving…a Jesus kind-of-love. The kind that changes lives.
I still tear up thinking of the palpable presence of the Holy Spirit, and the feeling of love so thick that it filled the air with sweetness. I don’t know why it still surprises me that these tough days (and months and likely years) of sorrow and trial are sprinkled with joy and light and happiness…but they are. I’ve come to recognize them as little love letters from heaven.
I testify that God lives, and that He is a God of love, and we can have a genuine and meaningful relationship with Him. He often answers our prayers by inclining the heart of someone we know, to come to our aid, or to show compassion, love, interest, encouragement, support, or friendship to us in our times of need. I’m so thankful for all the ways I see and feel His love through the kindness of others. This day is one I’ll never forget.
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