This pastor was much younger than our old pastor and I was drawn in by his message. At some point I had an open vision of Jesus on the cross. His arms outstretch and hands nailed to the cross. His eyes were beautiful and intense with love as He looked straight at me. I couldn't look anywhere but in His eyes. I was so drawn to Him. My heart broke from the love He felt for me. I found myself going forward to the front of the church. The vision faded and I was surprised when the young pastor stood near the choir and my old pastor grabbed me. I had joined the church, but from that time on I was hungry to encounter the real Jesus again.
A friend and distant cousin from elementary school told me about a bible study that I could get in the mail. So I wrote off for it. and some of the hunger was satisfied as I diligently studied, looked up scriptures and waited for the next mailing.
It was months before the old pastor scheduled my baptism. It was dead of winter and a cold day. My mother dressed me in winter undies, leggings, a wool skirt and wool sweater and brought a wool blanket to wrap me in. When it was my turn, I stepped into the cold creek and was dunked by the old preacher. When I came up I hoped to see a dove like at Jesus's baptism. There was no dove, but I was cocooned in a wonderful warmth that shielded me from the cold wintry day. My mother helped me out of the creek and I was so warm and comfortable as the cold water dripped from my hair, face and heavy clothes. She asked if I wanted the blanket and I said no. "Aren't you cold." she asked. I wasn't cold. She looked at me strangely. I didn't really know what was happening until years later. We walked silently to a relative's house where I dried off and changed clothes.
I was saved, baptised and Christ was in me. My journey as a true born-again Christian had begun.
