Immersion

Saturday we all went to my nephew Brenton's baptism. He had just turned eight and he was one very happy boy to have so much family visiting on his account. We had a lunch at his hous and he blessed the food. He especially gave thanks that all his cousins could come. He's had a few speech issues in the past where he was a little hard to understand, but he seems to be coming along swimmingly.

We went over to the chapel a little early and he was seated on the front bench, all in white. I waved to him as we sat down, and he ran over and gave me a big hug. Then as soon as he appeared he was gone again, back on the front row with a mile-wide smile.

When it came to his turn to be baptized he could hardly contain his excitement. It was so cute watching him going into the water with his dad. He left the font very clean and very content. It was a priceless moment.

In 1991 when I was a missionary in Chile, I had a long discussion with a woman about being baptized as an adult vs. being baptized as an infant. She had pointed out that I was only eight when I was baptized so how much choice did I have in making that decision and how much was just "going with the flow?" When I went home that night I sat on my bunk and tried to remember everything I could about my baptism.

I remembered sitting in white and someone telling me about this book that we had received before (what book?) and that we had written in it and scribbled on it (what book!?) and that we would be getting a new clean white book after we got baptized. I waited for my new book and wondered why I never got it! I guess nobody had ever explained metaphors to me before. I remembered Dad forgetting which arm to put up and which one to hold my arm with. I remember some kid from my elementary school (who I didn't like) who was in the changing room (what was HE doing there?) I remember coming home and seeing all my younger siblings sitting at the kitchen table scarfing down Wheaties. That was it. I didn't remember pondering whether or not I should be baptized. I considered calling home, but I didn't think that would help much.

So I then consigned myself to the fact that I might never know if I had made that decision for myself. In that very moment I felt the Holy Spirit distinctly and vividly inside me. I knew that I had made the right decision and it was me who had made it. It was very comforting in a time when I felt my faith was a little lacking. Also the knowledge that I had the Gift of the Holy Ghost with me from a young age to guide me was reassuring.

So to Brenton, I salute you! Eight is a great age to be baptized.