Everybody in the pool.

I was baptized today.

I had decided on Wednesday that come hell or high water, I would do this. Things are shifting, and changing, and moving into place, and I can't deny it. I am a believer in, and follower of, Christ. I understand things now that I didn't understand a few weeks ago. I have no evidence of a brain tumor, and I'm not incredibly susceptible to peer pressure. I cannot claim to be an "intellectual" if I pretend that all of this was just clever flow, or "brainwashing." Something supernatural has happened in me.

So I set the date. I called the church to make sure I had the details right. Then I spent four days in terror. Actually four and a half, because I was terrified right up until the dunking.

Let me tell you about it.

After Scotty Gibbons gave perhaps one of the best sermons I've ever heard in my life (move over, Edwards), I had to run to my car to grab my clothes and towel. I have given speeches to hundreds of people before, on the fly, that have caused less anxiety in my heart. As I walked through the parking lot, contemplating running, I thought, "This is the worst idea you've ever had." And then, "But it's not your idea, it's God's idea, and since God doesn't have bad ideas..." Logic to the rescue.

Thankfully, when I came back into the church, Susan was waiting for me. Susan is one of the greeter-people whom I met weeks ago, and instantly hit it off with. She's ex-Catholic (so she got the whole Episcopal thing), and funny, and kind of wry, and fabulous, and I love seeing her every week. Today, though, she came through in a big way on the fundamentals. And seeing her there at the door, waiting for me, and offering to take me right to the room was amazing. From God, truly. Also, she knew just what to say as she "dropped me off." I won't write what she said, but suffice it to say it was hilarious, a little bit irreverent, and exactly the kind of thing I needed to hear.

Then the boring part. We say hello to the strangers at our table, think nervously about our "video testimony" (who ever heard of such a thing?), and.. if you're me, tap your foot incessantly while silently praying for invisibility powers. Some guy tells us what we're about to do (as if I don't already know what a big deal this is--hence the foot-tapping). And we all head upstairs to take pictures for our "Baptism Certificate." I crack a joke about hanging it next to my B.A., and Master's Diplomas. Aaaaand...it's safe! Crowd laughs. (My humor is spotty down here.)

We then tape our above-mentioned video testimonies. How NERVE-WRACKING. The woman before me had some sort of melt-down, and had to do, like, 15 takes (her husband put it somewhere between 10 and 25). This is not looking good for me. But I'm all about winging it, right, so I hadn't put anything together. But I knew I wanted the essence of the message to be one of gratitude. As I think back on this experience, the crux of the entire thing is that I could not understand without His gifting me with understanding. So, I mumble something to that effect. Four times.

Then we all go lake-side.

I had thought I had already made it through what was causing the anxiety (I, in fact, asked if I could not be videotaped...no dice). I was wrong about that. As I stood there, a couple of feet from the water, close to hyperventilation, I thought "I'm about to be baptized in the Pentecostal church. Ashley, the PENTECOSTAL CHURCH. What are you doing?!?! This is not what you came down here for. You didn't come to this church to accept Christ, and be baptized. You came here to find out what the crazy Pentecostals were up to." And then I thought, "Whoa, slow it down. It doesn't matter what you came here for. You gave your life to Him. He deserves your obedience. He loves you. He's holding you now. Remember that thing you wrote? That you haven't seen His hand, but it has always been on your life. You are exactly where you need to be."

And then I stepped off.

It's worth mentioning that I had been playing the part of "annoying question girl" throughout the entirety of this process. And had asked explicit and detailed questions about what would happen in the water. I think everyone thought I was just being annoying. But in actuality, it was because I knew that I needed to make it rote for myself, because I would lose all thought once in.

I was right. I settled myself on the ledge in the water, swishing my feet every which way, fidgeting. Brad actually had to tell me to put my feet under the bar. Then I got into the position I had discreetly practiced, plugging my nose with one hand, and holding my arm with the other. But he was taking a little longer than I planned, and I kept forgetting to breathe. I'm not kidding. I had to make the conscious decision to either open my mouth, or unplug my nose, to allow air in. This decision took longer than it should have. Yeah.

This all is fairly more perplexing to me because I am not a super-stressed reacter type person. In my everyday life, I am more the "Just calm down, we'll get it fixed" person. So why this? Why did baptism throw me into a tizzy? I don't know. I'll have to think more about it.

But there was this moment, as it was happening, as he was saying the words, that I closed my eyes, and thought...this is so, so good. I don't understand all of it. But it is so, so so so good.

The only other thing that crossed my mind is that I can't wait to do this with my kids.