As I sit here and type, water’s falling from the sky. I know it’s washing the dirt off my car and the sidewalk and it’s fitting because I’m to the point in my own story when my sin being washed away in front of people gets mentioned.

It was April 5, 1992; my parents 12th Wedding Anniversary. Natalie and I were standing on old wooden floors, looking out into the pool of water, trying to decide who would go first. I won! Mr. Hayes, our Pastor and good family friend, was already in the water talking out to the congregation. He had been with us while we waited for Brittany to be physically born, so it made sense to me that he was there for me when I was being spiritually re-born. I walked down the steps and into the water, barely tall enough to be seen by the crowd below. I heard him talk about how my baptism was just an outward expression of my sins having been washed away when I asked Jesus into my heart. He talked about his immersing me into water was following the example of Christ when John the Baptist baptized Him. And then he put his hand over my mouth and nose, saying, “Having been made clean in the washing of sins by the Holy Spirit, I baptize you my sister, in the name of the Father and of the Son and the Holy Spirit.” And then he immersed me into the water. My feet slipped! And I came up grabbing the glass.

Good thing my salvation was in tack!  After Natalie had gone through the same thing (minus that whole feet slipping thing), we got dressed to go downstairs and dried our hair.  Then we went and sat on the front row of the church, by the organ, and waited for the Communion Service to begin.

It was a glorious day! Two lost souls had found Jesus and were baptized. What that meant in our church, I’m still not sure. Other than, I know it meant we were able to eat Communion with the cool kids.

When the service was over, we went home for a cook-out with our family and friends. Baptism Day, the washing away of my sins and joining the church, was a big deal!  In fact, people even brought presents in celebration of our decision.  My Uncle Dennis even brought us a giant box of Hardee’s Chocolate Chip Cookies.  When you’re six– that’s the best gift.  (When you’re 27 too.)  Maybe that’s why, to this day, I’m a sucker for Chocolate Chip Cookies.  That box of dough shows up in some of my favorite childhood memories.

As I sit here, continuing to listen to the rain, I’m finding myself missing the innocence of that Baptism Day. That day when I was certain my sins had been washed away and I was excited to tell someone else about it…