29 Years

Last Thursday (June 11) I celebrated my 29th baptismal anniversary.  It's amazing the amount of things I remember from that day.  I really couldn't tell you the sermon preached and I'm not 100% of who preached that sermon.  I was at Camp Peach Valley in Texas.  At the time it was just summer camp for kids to me.  And in fact, I would never return to that particular camp as a camper.  I grew up in the church and have been on a path with Jesus for 38 years plus, but on this particular day I made a choice to own that path.  Of course I would need the guidance of my parents, brother, grandparents, other family, and church family but the restorative power of Jesus had now entered me.  In typical fashion for our tradition of the time at the end of the sermon was a call to come to the front of the open-air pavilion for prayer, re-dedication to God, repentance of sin, or baptism.  Why Wednesday for me was any different than the previous two days I'm not sure but on Wednesday I went to the front.  I made it known to one of the adults that I wanted to be baptized.  So when all of us that had come to the front were spoken with and notes were made we, as a camp, went to the pool for the baptisms.  That night I was one of 18 baptized at camp.  On my way to the pool a bee decided to run into my thigh and sting me.  As I stand in line waiting my turn many thoughts entered my mind.  I was pretty anxious since I had (still do) a phobia of water over my head.  My thigh was throbbing and even though this was something that I had been thinking about for months, uncertainty began to set in.   I stood on the side and watched the other 17 go into the pool, go down under the water, and rise up out of the water.  And yet, I stood there a bit frozen.  They gave a last call and some of me was content to let this pass.  Fortunately, my brother knew my fears and understood my heart and pushed me forward and said, "Michael hasn't gone yet, and he went forward to be baptized."  I felt a little flushed and with noticeable embarrassment on my face I walked forward and into the water. My teacher and counselor that week, Jim, asked me if I believed in Jesus and if I was willing to give my life to Him.  I said emphatically, "YES!"  I covered my nose and went under the water. 

A few years earlier I had fallen off a pier and didn't know how to swim.  My eyes were open as I struggled in the salty water to get my body back to the surface.  Even though my dad reached for me, he missed.  In fact, he missed twice.  On my third time down into the water I took one last look around and everything was murky and dark and chaotic.  There was no peace and death seem certain to me.  And as I said my final goodbye to the world my dad swooped one last time grabbing me by the back of my shirt and throwing me onto the pier.  I lived, but forever scarred.

 So now I am under the water again and my eyes are open.  All I see is light.  All I feel is peace.  There is a hope in the waters of baptism.  There is life in Jesus. 

 I came up out of the water a new creation.  And although I have been far from perfect, I live for the perfect one.  I didn't know everything there was to know about Jesus, the Bible, or faith and I still don't.  But for 29 years I have had the tremendous experience of a journey with Christ that has shaped my life and hopefully helped shape the lives of those around me.  I'm looking forward to the big 3-0 next year.

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