I must blog... Testimony Part 4

My apologies. I'm sure you've all been waiting with baited breath since my last blog wondering what in the world is Mrs. Brown doing. Well here's a quick synopsis, and I will make it quick because I would like to continue with Part 4 of my testimony... if you don't mind.

So.

I have a job. Hence my silence from blogging.

Also, we have moved to Chatt-town! We're both very excited about this. I will blog later about the house. I'm sure it will take us much longer to unpack this go-round.

And that's about it.

On to more important details of my life: my testimony. For a refresher course, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 are linked here.

Part 4 is the story of my baptism. And I must admit, I dragged it out. I like to call myself a "late bloomer".

I believe the subject of baptism came up around the age of 13 as it does for most. However, I was not too keen on the idea. It wasn't that I didn't believe in the maker of the universe or that His Son came to this earth to create a new creature, die for Her, then be raised three days later to build a home for Her. It was that I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that I was a very weak soul and the expectation of growing into a new creature was too great. (how silly of me!)

You see, I'm not one for change. I like routines, I like patterns, I like consistency. However, to be a follower of Christ, one must be willing to abandon "the norm" and take on a new habitation. That is a scary endeavor for someone who is not apt to change.

Another struggle that was mulling around in my feeble mind was the debate of works vs. faith. I believed, so why did I have to "do" anything if works didn't save me?

I am also somewhat of a rebel at heart. If someone wants me to do something, I have a hard time going along just because "I said so" or "you're suppose to". I use the present tense because I still struggle with this, so you can imagine how I was 10-15 years ago.

All of this combined with the distractions of being a teenage girl had me shying away from the subject anytime it was brought up.

My parents were very gracious and loving in letting me decide when. However, their concern grew as I got older and the subject came up more often than I was comfortable. Anytime conversations would drift towards talking about Jesus, which they often did, I would remain silent not wanting to draw attention to myself.

And guys, this went on for a very long time.

Until.... IMPACT.

I might have mentioned the youth camp Impact in a previous post, but it was an amazing youth camp that our church youth group would attend every summer at Lipscomb University in Nashville. I will always hold those summers dear to my heart. It was such a wonderful experience.

On Thursday night of the camp, they would make their grand invitation for people to come up for baptisms, confessions, requests, etc. And this was when I got really uncomfortable.

You see, I kept it a secret that I was not baptized. Since we didn't start attending Westgate until I was in eighth grade, everyone just assumed that I was. And I let them go on thinking that.

This particular year (I think it was 2006), my parents went along as chaperons. And I was dreading Thursday night. I knew they would make the invitation, I knew my parents' thoughts would turn to me, and I knew I would feel extremely uncomfortable.... and all of that happened. I did not move from my seat. I was a statue in that audience, refusing to hear the Lord.

But He did not get angry with me. He was patient and kind. He stepped back and let me decide.

After the "grand" invitation, everyone went to the their own devotional times. My father (the Lord bless him!) "side-swiped" me and said, "Let's go for a walk". I knew what was coming and my heart was pounding.

We found some steps in a quiet part of campus and we talked. I don't remember a lot that was said because my emotions were running high, but I got the words out, "I want to be baptized." I had actually wanted to say those words for a while, but I can be such a drama queen sometimes. I suppose I thought it was going to be like taking off a band-aid. (As you can imagine, I have a hard time just ripping the thing off.)

We called my brother to tell him (my sister came along with my parents, so she already knew). Here's what went down on his end:

Monte was at his usual Thursday night prayer group. We called him during this time. When he saw who was calling, he told everyone he was with that he had to take the call because his sister was getting baptized. (whaaaaat!) He had also told a friend earlier that day that I was going to decide that night.

And here's what went down on my end:

Erin, you are my daughter. You have known me your entire life, and I have known you before you were in your mother's womb. I have created you to be a part of My family, to be a part of My church, My bride. 

I was baptized that next Sunday in a swimming pool.

I've got to be honest and say that I did not have a "holy dove" experience. And if I am really being honest, I think my family was more excited than I was. But knowing now that my journey had started long before I went under the water and having the assurance in the Lord that my journey was going to continue after I came out of the water, has made all the difference.

I was finally free. And that fact has sank deeper and deeper into my heart.

Now, looking back on my baptism story, it still affects me (in a good way). I did not take it lightly as I think all should not. I still wonder why the Lord chose such an action to respond to His calling, and He continues to teach me. I know that when I have children of my own, there will come a time when they ask the same questions that I did. I will smile, kiss them on the forehead, and say, "The Lord is a mysterious god who loves letting His children find out who He is. He has given this to us for us. He wants so very much for you to participate in the life of His Son, and to do that, we must die to ourselves. That's what baptism is."