Yesterday was baptism day. It was a good day, but I found myself a little caught up in hosting my in-laws, making sure my own parents were fine with everything, dealing with a sniffly boy, having a bunch of people over after church, and so on. So I thought I would try to take a moment to remember the sacred moments.
Taking my daughter to church school. Watching her with her little finger in front of her shining her light.
Praying on the chancel with family, church friends, our pastor, and the lector before the service.
Making promises on behalf of our children. Listening to the congregation make promises on behalf of our children.
Holding my son, saying his name, tipping him back as our pastor spoke his name, poured water over his head, anointed him with oil, blessed him.
Watching Computerguy bring our daughter around and hearing him say her name. Watching as our pastor poured water over her head, anointed her with oil, named her as a child of God.
Walking the children down the aisle, listening to the congregation sing to them.
Listening to a sermon written with my children in mind.
Welcoming people into our home, something we haven’t done nearly enough of.
Sitting with our unusually subdued pastor in our entryway, watching the party and talking quietly.
Once everyone had left, sitting around the table with the family, chatting.
It was a good day.
We didn’t get any pictures at church, more’s the pity, but this one of the kids with our pastor is from the party at our house afterwards.