As a lot of people can say down here in the south, I grew up in the church. A small United Methodist Church in Columbus where my parents and my grandparents attended. My mom especially was involved and had me there every time the doors were open. I was involved in Sunday School, Youth, and Choir. I was baptized (dedicated) as an infant and confirmed at age 12.
Also as a lot of people can say down here in the south, once I went to college I hardly ever went to church. I still considered myself a Christian. I tried to be a “good girl” and work hard on my studies.
Bill and I were married in 1997. We moved to the Jackson area to start building our life together. We found an apartment. We found jobs. We found a church home (United Methodist) where we plugged into Sunday School, choir, and orchestra. We found some friends. I thought we were on our way to the life I had dreamed about.
We took our first risk in 2002 when we went on our first mission trip to Honduras. Risk was not a word we used growing up. Never. After that, God started to turn my little built up world upside down.
We struggled with infertility. Never did I ever think we would not be able to get pregnant. I checked all the boxes and did all the “right” things. I didn’t know anyone struggling with infertility (now I know lots). I asked myself “God, how am I going to get through this???”
Four adopted children later, God has answered my prayers.
I struggled to find my place in my profession. Nothing made me feel at peace. Nothing looked like how I thought it would while taking all those tests. Two years ago I made the decision to take a manager position at a large store. The year after that was the worst year professionally I have ever had.
One year ago, my mom died. My friend. My advocate. The one person in this world who believed in me as much as my husband was gone. The last year has been the worst year personally I have ever had.
But God… He used the death of my mom to save me from destruction. I was headed down the wrong path. My stress level was at an all time high. I have a peace now that I haven’t had in a long time.
I want my kids to see the outward manifestation of my inward change. To see their mom being willing to be vulnerable (thank you Linda for that word). So much of their life they have seen a mom trying to control her life and the lives of those around her. They haven’t seen a Spirit-filled Mom.
Which leads me to my baptism. Looking back, I was never truly baptized. I checked the boxes and hung onto the faith of my grandmother and my mother. Now is the time to truly own my faith for the body of Christ.
On this Easter Sunday, one year to the day after I buried my mom.
One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism