A picture of (childlike) faith

Dripping wet, all of his 35 pounds shivering with cold and excitement, he turns to me and asks, "Can we do it again?"  We are stepping out of the baptistry and his smile is beaming as my heart grows bigger and bigger.  My son Brady is six and I've just had the privilege of baptizing him.  Years down the road, when I'm once again questioning my calling, I pray that this image will come to mind, my hand on his wet head in love and blessing, his face glowing with joy.

This boy, heart of my heart, is a child of God.  As I spoke the words of commitment and blessing, for a moment I was not just his mother, I was a minister, a representative of Christ, entrusting this precious life into the hands of God and our congregation.  I am now his sister in faith, joined not just by blood, but by water and the spirit, as I am with all those who profess their faith as Brady did, "I believe in Jesus as my Lord and Savior".  I am joined with my pastor, Donna, who also had the joy of baptizing her daughter the same day.  A shared second birthday for our two, and a shared gift of ministry, motherhood, and friendship for us.

Some question Brady's age and what he is capable of understanding.  I humbly admit that after 29 years as a Christian and 13 years as a minister, I know little to nothing.  My answers to his questions of faith were stumbling, halting, uncertain, and yet...there is no doubt that Brady is God's beloved, that the Spirit is working in his young and precious life.  My son's tenderness and love have so often been reminders of God to me; his spirit and his curiosity stir my soul.  His very faith and desire is an inspiration for me to keep learning and growing with him.

And a little child will lead them...

We are now on a new journey together, bound by Christ.  I stand ahead a little, knowing about the pain, and uncertainty, and darkness that he has not yet faced.  I want to shelter him, and yet, I know that this is his cup, too.  He, like me, has been buried with Christ in his death, and raised to new life in the resurrection.  And I pray, how I pray, that the new life will continue to grow and grow and grow...forever.  I hope that this moment will be forever etched in his heart as well, and when the tough times come, he will remember his baptism and the loving presence of God and God's children surrounding him.  I hope he will remember my hand on his head and remember that nothing, NOTHING can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

(and with the picture, I couldn't resist sharing the video, 

"Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pastors")