As Monday begins a new week I am still struggling to comprehend the events of Sunday.  I am struggling even harder to corral them lest I forget the immensity of what God offers to those who seek Him.  Yesterday I was allowed the privilege to witness the stories of some 20 people out of 65 who were baptized through the ministry of Blue Ridge Community Church.  I witnessed stories of drug addicts and stories of people who grew up a lot like me.  I saw both the young and the very old dip into the waters of Baptism.  According to the scales of sin set up by man they were all so different.  However, there was none more lost nor none less found who confessed not just their belief in Jesus but His ownership of their lives as well.

I cried for different reasons for each person.  I cried for the father who was baptized and then in turn baptized his nine year old daughter.  I cried for them because of the future grace I pray for my own girls that I might also dip them having confirmed their belief and love for Jesus Christ.   I cried for the drug addict and dealer who had just recently surrendered to Christ.  I cried for him because in the same extravagant ways that God chased Him He also has pursued and won me.  I cried for the elderly man whom God had freed from the clutches of alcoholism because in his story I knew that neither time, nor sickness can limit Jesus’ freedom giving power in the lives of those whom I love.  In short, I cried for many reasons this past Sunday all of which had some sort of bearing on my own life or for those whom I love.

The events of yesterday were the beginning of the story for those involved.   Life awaits those who have confessed Christ.  It is their Monday morning as well as mine.  My confession of Christ and subsequent Baptism happened some 16 years ago.  Life has not been perfect.  My faithfulness has waned many times in my pursuit of Christ.  I expect the same struggles and at times failures for those whom we celebrated so rightly yesterday.  Baptism has been but a marker on that difficult road reminding me of God’s power who makes dead men alive and enslaved men free.  For this reason my prayers turn for those who made that commitment yesterday and for my own path as well.  To remember the depths of which we came and the heights in which God has called us are the beacons that help light the way toward a life well lived in Christ.  May the events of yesterday spur us all on in that pursuit.