A Milestone

This past weekend, we had a milestone in our family.

C.(11) was baptized.

Our church does not practice infant baptism. Instead, it’s a conscious, deliberate decision made when an individual is older. When a person has asked God to forgive his sins, has accepted by faith the sacrifice Jesus made to pay for our sins, and has given his life to God, he can then be baptized.

In essence, baptism is a public declaration of an individual’s faith in Christ and his desire to obey and live for God.

Needless to say, when C. was baptized this past Saturday, it was a joyous and momentous occasion for us. As parents, there are many things we want to teach our children — everything from basics like tooth-brushing, to how to make a good decision, to good manners, to a strong work ethic.

But most of all, we want our kids to know how much God loves them. And our hearts’ desire is to see them love God in return and to live their lives for Him.

Several years ago, C. asked Jesus to be his savior, and began a personal relationship with God. We didn’t “command” him to be baptized. Instead, we waited. We wanted him to come to this decision on his own. Declaring his love for God in front of others would need to be his choice, and this year, he was ready. He told us at the beginning of the year that he wanted to be baptized.

He attended a short class at our church — just to confirm that he understood what baptism was, and what a relationship with God was all about. And this past weekend, he was part of our church’s “celebration weekend.”

More than 40 people were baptized over the course of the weekend. And C. was the very first. He was a little nervous. After all, everyone was watching. He’d be dunked under water in front of a crowd of people, with all the attention focused on him.  But he did just fine.

Our family gathered around him (C.’s grandparents, a cousin, an uncle, Chad, L.(4), and me), and one of our pastors baptized C.

I can’t explain the feeling I had, watching my son take this big step. I was overwhelmed with love, with thankfulness, and with excitement.

We grown-ups are good at taking these emotions and funneling them into not much more than a big smile. But L. took it a bit further. As C. headed to the back to dry off and Chad returned to our seats with L., L. clapped his hands and shouted, “Yea, C.! Yea, C.! Yea, C.!” Though he’s too young to understand the symbolism or implications of C.’s baptism, he could sense that this was an exciting and wonderful occasion.

And it truly was. We’re so thankful for C., and for his desire to follow God and live for Him. We loved celebrating this milestone with our family and our church. And we pray that God would bless C. and guide him throughout his life.

He is risen!

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead…’”

Rejoicing in Jesus’ resurrection today, and hoping that each one of you would know the incredible love and forgiveness of our Savior. He is risen!

It’s January! Hooray!

L. (3) was happily playing with Legos yesterday morning. He received a Lego fire station set for Christmas and has spent a good portion of the last week creating everything but a fire station with it. In fact, whenever I’ve attempted to help him turn the pile of Legos into the item pictured on the box, I’ve been immediately reprimanded and told I’m doing it wrong.

Confession: This drives me a bit crazy. I’m of the belief that one should follow the rules, especially when it comes to building cool Lego sets. But clearly, my second-born child disagrees with that belief.

Anyway, as I watched, L. picked up his Legos and started walking toward the kitchen in a dazed, out-of-it kind of way, staring up somewhere around the level of the upper cupboards. He wandered past the breakfast table, around the edge of the counter, and across the kitchen. It was almost as if an invisible string were pulling him along.

Just as I figured out what he was looking at and being drawn inexorably toward (the new calendar on the wall), he started jumping up and down — literally — with joy.

“It’s January! Hooray! January! Hooray! January! Hooray! It’s January!! Hooray!!!

Chad and I cracked up. Here was a three-year-old who recognized that there was a new calendar on the wall, who figured out that the big “J-word” on it was “January,” and who was now overwhelmed with excitement at the fact that a new year had arrived.

Even after the jumping stopped, L. had a huge smile on his face and was, without a doubt, overjoyed.

Confession #2: I knew why he was so excited.

We have some fun things planned in the month of January, and L. has known about them for several weeks. Ever since somewhere around December 12th, he’s been asking me, “Is it January yet?” and “Why is December going on for so long?” So today, when he realized that finally, finally December was over and January had arrived, he simply couldn’t contain his glee.

I loved seeing L. so excited — what mom doesn’t enjoy seeing her child incredibly happy?

But the whole situation also made me think about the ways we, as adults, face a new year.

Some people are so glad when January arrives because the previous year was miserable, or difficult, or painful, or stressful…and they are thrilled to see it finally go away. Eager for a fresh start, they welcome January with open arms.

Others are excited to see January on the calendar because the new year holds promise — a new baby scheduled to arrive, a long-anticipated trip, the completion of a project or realization of a dream.

Some are indifferent, seeing nothing to celebrate or enjoy about a new year…just more of the same of what the last year held.

Some look wistfully back at the just-passed year, not quite ready to let it go.

As for me, I often approach a new year with some mixed feelings.

January, in general, is not my favorite month. Where we live, the weather is usually bleak — gray, cold, dreary…no sun for days or weeks at a time. I don’t like it and don’t particularly look forward to it. The holidays infuse excitement and fun and variety into December, while January often feels….blah.

On the other hand, I appreciate the promise of a new calendar year. There’s always a feeling of new beginnings, new opportunities…a sense of anticipation for what the new year will hold.

And this year, I’m struck hard with the comforting thought that regardless of what this year holds — January bleakness? Exciting new opportunities? Heartache? Joy? — that God already knows, and that He is ever working to accomplish His purposes.

Many are the plans in a man’s heart,
but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails.

- Proverbs 19:21

See, I’m often tempted to have “many plans” in my heart. As with L.’s Lego fire station, I have very clear ideas on how I think things should go and how they should work out. But, of course, I am limited in my perspective, lacking in wisdom, and often selfish in motivation. So my many plans? Let’s just say that I’m thankful they don’t always come to pass!

But with the reminder that God holds the year 2010, and knowing that He is good and loving and in control, I can look at the coming year with excitement. Maybe I won’t jump up and down in the kitchen, but I can echo L.’s sentiment: “It’s January! Hooray!”

Christ Is Risen

Empty Tomb

He Is Risen

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead…”

- Matthew 28:5-7a

Words before meaning

L. came out of Sunday School today, excited — as usual — to tell me what they had done. They had snacks, they sang songs, they talked to “Bubba” — a sheep puppet who entertains them every week, dearly loved by all the children — and they learned about Jesus.

“What did you learn about Jesus?” I asked.

He handed me his coloring paper — a simple cross with the words Jesus Died for Us written across the top.

My first reaction was a combination of curiosity and confusion. I wondered how a curriculum for tiny kids handled the concept of Jesus’ death. L.’s too young to even attempt to explain it to me, but still, I’m curious.

L., like most two-year-olds has no concept of death whatsoever. In part, because he has been almost entirely isolated from it. And in part because, well, he’s two. He barely understands the concept of “Daddy’s on a business trip.” Forget the “…and will be back in three days.”

Time is an enigma. He knows he doesn’t like nap-time, but he does like play-time. The idea of “tomorrow” and “yesterday” are vague enough, let alone the concepts of “life” and “death.”

So I wondered — did they keep it short and sweet? Just “Jesus died for us.” That would be my guess. But wasn’t that phrase pretty much meaningless to all those energetic little toddlers? If they didn’t get it, what was the point?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that learning, repeating, and even believing the words before truly understanding the meaning behind them happens all the time.

I was once a 20-year-old bride, and completely clueless. I stood in front of a church and proclaimed my love and commitment to Chad before God, our family, and our friends. I said those words, I meant those words, I whole-heartedly believed those words.

But did I have any clue what committed, forever, no-matter-what marital love was all about?

Um…no.

Did I know what it meant to hang in there when things got rough, to love someone after I got to know them through and through, to put someone else before myself?

Not particularly. Does anyone, on their wedding day?

I was just pretty sure that I was marrying a great guy who would never let me down, a boy with blue eyes and plenty of smarts, the person who would always make it easy for me to love him.

We learn, though, don’t we? Even in the best marriages, it takes time to learn what real love is all about.

We say the words, and even believe them, long before we comprehend the meaning behind them.

Another example: We have our first child and someone tells us, “It will change your whole life.” We nod in agreement, knowing this to be true, believing on some level that we will indeed be changed by becoming parents. But it’s not until after we’ve changed countless diapers, spent a sleepless night or two nursing croup, prayed desperately for protection and guidance for a grade-schooler, wait up for a past-curfew teenager… that we realize the full import of that statement. It will change your whole life.

You’re not kidding.

The same goes for Christians. We make a decision to “follow Christ,” but we rarely know what we’re getting into at the time. Letting Him prune us, deal with our stubborn sins, lead us down paths we may never have chosen for ourselves — these are the things that teach us what following Him really means. And they only happen over time, making the understanding a gradual process.

::::::::::::::

So I put L.’s Sunday School paper up on the fridge, and this week we’ll talk over lunch about that lesson.

Jesus died for us.

Right now, they are just words. Another sentence L. has added to his repertoire of things Jesus is or does. Jesus loves me. Jesus helps me. Jesus died for me.

Does he know what that means? Nope.

But as he grows older, the understanding will come.

He’ll see that the cross on that marigold-colored card-stock represents God’s love displayed on this Earth. He’ll discover that “Jesus died for me” speaks of God’s incredible compassion for us, His desperately helpless creation.

One sentence becomes the foundation for hope and salvation and love and life worth living.

The words before the meaning? That’s okay with me.

The meaning will come. And, I pray, it will change his life.