A Reminisce and God’s Glory: Part Three

I look up, and, in front of me is a house. It is larger then the others we have looked at. It is so much more appealing then the little two room apartment we are forced to endure. Our realtor stands outside the door, an ant in comparison to what looks like a towering structure. She opens the door and we go in. At once I am captivated. I look to my right and there is a large mirror that creates the illusion that the house is really bigger then what it is. As I look around I can see stairs going down and up. I follow my parents up the first flight. The house is larger then I thought. “This is it,” I say, “We need to get this place.” My parents sound somewhat skeptical, but aren’t altogether opposed to the idea. They look around mentioning that it needs some work. My dad goes outside to look over the shed in the back yard. The door shuts and so does my memory of that time.

In the midst of the blurred indistinguishable memory another time stands out. I sit at the dining room table. My mom is on the other side. We had just finished having a play date with our friends. I am worn out and sit breathing heavily at the table. Suddenly as we are discussing the friends and what they are like, my mom asks me if I think they are Christians. I begin to answer with words I think are intellectual and well thought out. But they only serve to cause another inquiry. “Are you a Christian?” Out of nowhere my mom asks the question I never knew I would get. It scares me and I quickly say yes. But she continues to pry at me. The room disappears to reveal another room filled with people looking at me and smiling once again.

I hold a piece of paper in my hand. It is my “testimony”. I have just finished reading it and am now signing my name on a piece of paper. I am told to go get some different cloths on. All goes dark. Then, I am outside soaked and shivering. I have just been baptized for the last time. In that moment and in this one I remember all of the times I had pridefuly ignored God. I remember the different people I was with and the different times I was baptized. I remember the influences I had. Some were good. Some were bad. But all in all I remember how it all, my whole life, was directed by God for his glory and for my salvation. Everything I had done and that had happened to me all came down to the moment (I don’t know the exact time) that I was saved. And it was all symbolized in that baptism: the one not for my salvation but to signify it. Now the rest is yet to happen it isn’t in my past so I can’t really tell you about it. But I hope through this post you have come to know me a little bit better and have come to know what I live for. May God, then, be glorified in the rest of this life I live.