I wasn’t interested. I was a young mother in my early thirties and I had just started attending church again. The pastor had duly informed me about church membership and baptism. To this day, I so much appreciate Pastor Dick Blose for what he did and for what he didn’t do. He made sure that I knew the importance of baptism. He planted the seeds for confirmation of my faith. However, he made it clear that the decision was mine and that he was not going to pressure me. Not now, all in God’s timing. He kept his word and a year later, I hounded him to finally be baptized. I was that anxious to celebrate my faith with my newfound family of believers. It had been an amazing year of growth in my Christian walk. I clearly heard God call me into his plan for my life. I began a ministry in the church. I started writing for the church newsletter. I enjoyed fellowship and discovered that my boys had lots of fill-in grandparents. I studied Scriptures and wanted to dig deeper. Most importantly, I finally understood what Jesus Christ did for me. It cost God his one and only Son. I mattered that much to God. I felt the nudging of the Holy Spirit to seek the ways of Jesus. My faith had become real and personal. On a beautiful morning in 1994 at a sunrise Easter service, I was baptized. What had been not now came to fruition in God’s perfect timing.
Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God – children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.