Do You Remember that Day?

Easter 1965... I can remember it like it was yesterday.  Mom was dressed in a peach colored Easter dress with a little 1960s matching hat.  Of course I was wearing my Easter suit and tie.  my dad always insisted that us boys should be wearing our slacks sport-coat and tie when in public, with school being the only exception.

We were in a little Baptist Church in Tacoma, Washington, and we were sitting third row center.  It was the most amazing morning in the history of the world, as far as I was concerned. It was like something had taken hold of my insides and was pulling me to my feet. The preacher was preaching in a soft voice, and his words floated around my head.  I couldn't help myself, when I started to stand up, mid service. I felt like I was floating up and out of my body, and if I didn't get my feet under me, I would surely fall over. Mom grabbed me and told me to sit down; but the lady next to her grabbed her arm and pointed to the isle.   As I stood, about five other people stood up and we just started walking toward the front.  

The preacher just stopped... he said, "who are we to mess with God's timing". He then asked if there was anyone else that felt the tug... three more people made their way forward.

The Choir scrambled to get into place... 

They started singing about the old rugged Cross; 

and I broke down to my knees crying.

An old man I had never met, knelt beside me and we cried together.  I wasn't quite 10 years old yet, and I already had the weight of the world, on my shoulders.  I wasn't quite 10 years old and yet and I was thoroughly educated in the many ways that pain can be inflicted upon the human body. I honestly could not feel my feet on the floor when that old guy took me to the back room where they kept all the choir robs. The release of all that pressure/weight on me was overwhelming.  He stayed right there with me and let me destroy his suit jacket.  I do not know where the hours went, but suddenly it was evening service and I was standing in the baptism tank.

I was pretty sure, even at that age, that I was going to die soon; and I wanted to be sure to go to heaven when I did. As that preacher layed be back in the water I felt something else; a warmth filling me from the inside out.  I thought I was on my way to heaven that very moment.  I thought Jesus had rescued me from my life.  It felt like I was under that water forever, but alas I came back up.  I looked at the preacher and he had a very strange look on his face... he started shaking and he followed me out of the tank.  For the life of me cannot remember the words he said.  I can see his lips moving, I remember the scene to this day, but I do not hear the words.

It has been my Hope... The one thing I look forward to... The day I feel Jesus hug me and welcome me home...

That was 45 years ago... and again this morning I caught myself praying... "Jesus, do you remember that day?"

I guess I just wanted to do feel nine years old again. To feel that one moment in my life when there was no fear or pain.

Sometimes all we need to do is remember...