Pre-Baptism Christian Walk

I feel like I need to start from the very beginning, but I want to preface this post for another later - life after my adult baptism.

This isn't to put weight on any toes, not to make up issues that aren't there, or really, anything besides healing a part of me that needs to be heard to be released. I was raised Christian and baptized as a child by wonderful, well-meaning parents. I ran from God for nearly 2 decades, from my teens to almost my 29th birthday. That's a lot of years believing, self-righteously, that following the Golden Rule was "enough" and that the reward of heaven should not be the reason to love others. How silly, when the reward is already paid and I can't do enough to earn it for myself.

Crazy right? Great that I got the second commandment haphazardly, but unfortunately, I missed step one (Love the Lord your God and 1.5 Love your neighbor AS YOURSELF).

Not to boast, I was one of those unbelievers that believers might be upset with - I had a lot of success through grit and torture and self-imposed fear. I can honestly say I only remember a few really good and really bad days of my childhood and early education, I made myself so busy I don't remember college and especially when I could buy alcohol for myself, all bets were off. I wouldn't say I hated myself, but I didn't love all of me or even really want to be my friend.

After there was nothing to chase and for almost four years, I lived between work and alcohol. I still got an amazing job, worked and learned hard and fast, and got good enough at my job to slide into autopilot. You ever been there? But family, working out, friends, mental health... what? If I wasn't drunk doing it, the most important things of life got pushed aside and I would spend the least amount of time "there" as possible. Show up, put on a smile, check the phone, fade out without a goodbye. It was good enough for the moment, until each moment got mundane. I got scared, this was what dad thought was better than college? Funny, not one year of my life was worth going through again. 

Then a chance relationship got me thinking about a master's and another chance encounter got me in a gym with a Christian trainer.

No alcohol?

That was his terms. From someone who drank something every day, got black out every night off, and needed alcohol to feel secure in a room of zero, one, or 100 - to overnight, a sober, sore, and grossly time-poor graduate student. I wanted change, I wanted to change, I wanted to create myself into the identity that I could love.

I worked every weekend for over 4 years. I went to classes and went to the college on my off days. I worked overtime during the week, even finding other facilities when my full-time gig didn't need me. I trained twice a week and prioritized meal preps in between traveling and homework. I saw my family once a month and saw friends if they were willing to go to the same concert (though I probably ignored them, I enjoyed being sober and alone). I quickly lost a lot of friends, and broke up with the guy who initially got me interested in starting my master's so young. I invested a lot of time. I invested a lot of money. I invested a lot of my identity into this chapter of my life surrounding my master's degree.

And then, one semester to go, I hated life. Why did I start this career without an end-goal? Something to change careers to afterwards? I thought I had 2.5 years to figure it out, and all I did was bounce from guy to guy and trip to trip and personal record to personal record... I didn't figure it out. This wasn't want I wanted. At least not now. So why did I go through all this now? I was healthier, skinnier, and less happy then before!

Square one. Do my research. Ask some friends. Flip a coin. If this PhD program takes me, I'll go. If not, it's time to travel. 

I'm accepted - finally another high! I needed that spark in the mundane of life. Start a month after "graduation," that's awesome, there'll be no time to slow down, think, ponder what I just did, what I want now or later - is this PhD degree really going to help?

Start up, round one, it's hard, but being 1% - that sounds like the life. I never imagined I couldn't finish - why would they accept me if they didn't like my research? 

One chance relationship, I meet my future team. It's a cute fit, in a couple of years. I'll tough it out. No I won't, what can I do to get to Denver now? I saw the life I wanted, now I'll do whatever it takes to chase it. I'm always running away from the mundane. Interview after interview, in Denver again, I get a tattoo because I know this will be home soon. 

Move, work, trips, deaths, fear, imposter syndrome, snow, adventure, alone, high - 4 months in I'm invited to a church service that changes my life. I want peace and no more sorrow, I want light without darkness, I'm willing to try anything to get rid of my anxious heart that pounds at night asking "Why did you do this? Is this what you wanted? Are you finally happy?"

I give it all to God and ask Jesus to save me and invite the Holy Spirit into my life. I don't truly know what I'm signing up for or what I'm asking for, it just feels right (post to follow).

The next year is my favorite one ever. I'm always busy, always doing something fun, always finding something new. My job is great and I only feel like an imposter most days, not all the time. I'm exercising well enough and eating enough to survive, I'm losing weight again and getting paid to do so - life couldn't be better. I feel happy. I like this pursuit.

I'm thinking of a second baptism, where my heart, soul, mind, and body can truly surrender to God. Truly, I don't really know what I'm signing up for or what I'm asking for, I just know that it's the right thing to do. For my faith walk. For my journey. 

I'm out of town the first weekend it's offered at the church I've chosen, I feel home here in the pews and stained glass windows that surround the drums and electric guitar. I like the pastor, but I'm not driving 45 minutes for an old Walmart - that's not what my heart needs. But I like what they say, I like who they are, I like how I feel when I'm there.

Then COVID19 hits (I told you, this is a recent story). I still love life, now I have time to read the Bible and work out before work - outdoor work outs in the spring in Colorado? I'm still convinced nothing could be better. I drop so much weight I'm back in my old jeans - I don't even like jeans. I never thought it was possible, this is 10 pounds less than when I moved to Colorado. Everything is going well, maybe the world is falling apart, but I'm sane and safe and carefree. 

My church delays baptisms in the spring, but when COVID is obviously not going away, they offer a small, intimate, outdoor baptism in June 2020. It's like a dream, you couldn't get me in a bathtub with hundreds of people staring at me. I invite one person, she's out of town. Honestly, it's relief she can't come. I want this for myself, with myself, by myself. It's a patterned trait to want to be alone, but I won't call it toxic anymore. It got me here and God is healing me.

I come out on top of the world. I don't remember much, I heard someone got a video. I get really close to one of the women who said the prayer for me. But now it's over. It happened and now life just goes on right?

I got on about my day, my week, my life - just kidding. 6 days later the epic fight for my soul begins.