Thursday, May 4, 2017

"Baptismaversary"

Every May 4th I take a moment to reflect on the moment where at the age of 17 I took the biggest, and what at the time seemed to be the craziest-yet-felt-so-right leap of faith of my life.

Unlike most decisions I made as a teenager, this one happened to be the smartest and the one that mattered most.  The one decision that changed the entire course of my future, or rather, righted my course.  

I do not believe there has been a moment since when I have seriously doubted this decision, and I can say for a surety that I am on the path where I am supposed to be.  

As a token of my gratitude, I promised Heavenly Father that I would always bear my testimony around this date every year.  I have always done it in sacrament meeting, but tonight I couldn't sleep.  And after tossing and turning for a few hours I finally decided to ask Heavenly Father what it is that I should be doing instead of sleeping.  He told me to write this post.  

Baptism - From a Greek word meaning to immerse.  Symbolizes death, burial, and resurrection 

When I read that, I couldn't help but draw the parallel to my own life.  
That old person became a new person that day.  

Here she is, fresh out of the water.  Clean inside and out. 
A teenaged girl without a clue of what lies ahead, but knowing in her heart she did something that pleased her Heavenly Father, and that He would be with her if she stayed close to Him.  
She knew she had a LOT to learn.

There were miracles that day.  
One was given to poor Brother Fisher who had to deliver the news to me that I was to wear a....
gasp.....
hideous white zip-up jumpsuit.
The one baptism I had seen before, the little girl had a beautiful white lace dress on.  I somehow had it in my mind that this was what the ward would be providing me.  
Nevermind the fact that I had the ugliest hairstyle known to man at the time with the back half of my head shaved.  Or that I was frump girl.  
Or that I was about to commit myself to the biggest lifestyle change ever. 
All of that was okay, but wearing a jumpsuit?  That was the deal breaker?  
It seems so asinine to me now!
But to me back them....I flat out told him I wouldn't do it.  
He looked completely stumped as to what to do.  
I do remember feeling a twinge of guilt as I saw the panic in his eyes.   It looked something like "How in the world am I going to talk sense into this convoluted teenaged girl?"

I really don't remember how he got me to do it.  I know that he sent sisters to go look through the church cabinets and see if there was anything else I could wear.  There wasn't.
I think that was perhaps the final test of faith before the big leap.  Whatever it was, I had been pretty firm so it was a miracle that he changed my mind.  

Second miracle:
I know everyone thinks this, but I had the best missionaries for me.  They always knew the right things to say and the right way to say it.  They always made me feel loved and calm.  I think everyone has a special bond with the missionaries that committed them to baptism.  


I knew that I could take this big step if they were there with me.  
I remember talking to them about setting a baptism date on Saturday, because I had school during the week.  I chose the Saturday before Mother's Day because I thought it would be a nice way to honor my mother, and also my dear mentor Sister Huntzinger who had allowed me to have the missionary discussions in her home, and whose son baptized me, was going to be out of town for the next few weeks so we had to do it after she got back.

Either it was a very lucky coincidence, or I was beginning to recognize and follow promptings from the Spirit already, but I started to get this terrible feeling about doing the baptism on that day.  I just knew it had to be sooner.  

It made no sense, and it was a date change that was going to leave out Sister H.....one of the most pivotal characters in my personal conversion, so I felt ridiculous as I called Elder Jasinski and told him, 
"I don't know why but I think I need to do it the 4th instead."

 He was like, "okay whatever you want."  And it was set.  
The Huntzingers graciously planned a reception for me at their home and invited ward members to attend even though Sister Huntzinger wasn't even able to be there because she was out of town!
Have I ever told you "I'm sorry!" Sister Huntzinger?  
(Whether I have or not, I know I've already been forgiven because that's just how she is.)

The day of my baptism interview, Elder J. approached me with a sick look on his face.  He was going to be transferred to a new area.  He had tried to get permission to stay a little longer but they said he had to go....like right now.  

This was me:

Like I said, I couldn't imagine doing this without him there to support me.  It mattered so so so much.  It was really hard news to take.  

So now I felt really dumb because I moved the date up for what seemed like no reason, and neither Sister H. or Elder J. could be there.  
I was super bummed, but took comfort in the fact that my beautiful mother was going to be there and support me, even though she didn't agree with my decision.  That was a huge act of love on her part and it meant so much.  

Here's a copy of the program:
See how Elder Jasinski's name was crossed out and some new Elder had to replace him?  
So sad.
The young women in our ward came and signed my program for me.  I am still friends with most of them now.  They are special, special daughters of God.

So here's the miracle part:  I was just heading into the font full of butterflies of nervousness and excitement and someone whispered to me,
"Molly look....Elder Jasinski is here!"

He made it. 
I felt calm.  I felt happy.  I felt so loved and touched.
It was the first tender mercy I have ever recognized at the moment it happened and I knew it was a token of love from my Heavenly Father and from my special missionary.  It was a very special gift, because Heavenly Father knew how much it mattered to me.
I found out later Elder J. had convinced a member of his new ward to drive him several hours back to Fredericksburg for my baptism, then he had to immediately return.  
But he was there!

I wish I could describe in words how clean I felt after I came up out of the water.  I felt so good and clean on the inside....cleaner than I had ever remembered feeling.  
It was a new start and I knew it.  
It felt so good.  

So many members of my home ward were there to support me.  I had gone from a pretty lonely girl to an explosion of love and people excited for me, interested in me, looking out for me.  That also felt so good and going to church with them each week felt like home.  I loved going to church.

And guess what, I still do!  I still get a clean feeling after I take the sacrament each week, but nothing like that very first time at baptism.  It was special.  

Here's a section of my baptism certificate.  It's special to me because it is signed by my very special Bishop at the time: Bishop Billy Moore.  He did a lot to help me on my way and was a wonderful father figure to me at a time when I had no father present in my life.  I wasn't the only one he impacted - everyone loved him.  Sadly, he passed away in a tragic car accident a few years after this day.  I'm so glad I have his signature on this very special paper of mine.  


Sadly, the spiritual and reverent feeling after my baptism didn't last long.  Not having Sister H. to help me proved to be a sad thing in more ways than one.
Preparing for my baptism alone, I forgot to bring one important undergarment item:
dry underpants.

It hit me as I was getting changed in the bathroom outside the font.  
I panicked,
"What do I do?  Everyone is waiting for me to come out...."  I flapped them around a few times as if that would dry them out.  I tried putting them back on but I knew they would leave a huge wet spot on my dress.  Finally, I resigned to the fact that I was just going to have to go commando.

I wish receiving the Gift of the Holy Ghost had been a memorable moment for me because of how spiritual it was.  I wanted to feel a whooosh or an "aha" moment or something letting me know that now I had the greatest gift of all, the constant presence of a member of the Godhead.  
Instead, I was fretting about the fact that I had no underpants on, and hoping no one could tell.

 Me with Elder Wilkinson at the reception in the Huntzinger home.
Don't worry, my friend Rachel Huntzinger let me borrow a pair of underwear once we got to her house.  That was awesome confessing to her what had happened.
 
 I'm sure you wanted to know that.  

I suppose that is just how my life is always going to be.  Lots of mistakes mixed with important spiritual and life defining moments.  Hopefully a little humor to deflect the mistakes.  Hopefully a little reverence and awe of what my Heavenly Father has done for me.

To try and express to my Heavenly Father how grateful I am would be impossible.  I still tell Him almost every day.  I try to show him by the way I live my life. 

I have been fortunate enough to be born with the spiritual gift of always knowing that Jesus Christ is my Savior.  Even though we weren't a super churchy family growing up, I can't remember a time I didn't know that Jesus Christ is my brother and that He loves me.  
Miracle #3
That love for Him stuck with me across the veil into this earthly life and has gotten me through some pretty tough times.  Some of my first memories as a child are looking up into the clouds and talking to my Savior.  How could I have even known that?  Without that gift, I don't know that I would have been as drawn to His restored church as I was.  
Because of that gift, I know that as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 
I am home.  




1 comment:

  1. Thanks for this write up. It took me back in time. I'm very glad we were all being watched over by the hand of the Lord.

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