I walked into her classroom, like I had been doing all school year.  This time with a little more pep in my step.  My first grade self was about to burst to tell her all about it. 

I ran up to Ms. McBride, “Hey, guess what I did this weekend!  I got baptized yesterday!”

“You did?  That’s wonderful!”  She knew just how to share in my excitement. 

At six years old, I did not have a huge 180 turn to make to follow Jesus.  I wasn’t a recovering alcoholic or drug addict.  I wasn’t a former rapist, dealer, or abuser.  I was just a kid who knew she wanted to ride on Noah’s Ark.  I did, however, know that Jesus Christ had changed my life and I could hardly wait to tell the first person I saw who hadn’t already seen and heard.  That’s how spreading the Gospel works anyway, right?

I was stoked to spread the word!  It wasn’t until later that I would wrestle with feeling like my story was lacking.  It wasn’t until much later that I would wonder where my sense of urgency to share had gone. 

For now, I was telling everybody all about it.  Even the part about my feet slipping…