I don’t remember my baptism.
I know that it took place on a Sunday, way back in March 1978 in a modest church building in Cloverdale, British Columbia, Canada, and that I was wearing an adorable white gown.
I don’t remember it because I was only a couple of weeks old at the time, and I had no input into whether I should be baptized.
My parents presented me for baptism because of the Reformed conviction that God has made a covenant of love with believers and their children and that children should therefore receive the sign and seal of this covenant in baptism.
With the sprinkling of a few drops of water on my little forehead, God signified the washing away of my sins with Christ’s blood. It was a simple ritual that was quickly done, but God’s promises are steadfast.
On that day, the Triune God publicly vowed that He would be my God and that I would be His child.
Having given so much, God calls me to faith and to the obedience that comes from faith. And as I live in covenant with God, I know that this remains true: “He remembers His covenant forever, the word which He commanded, for a thousand generations” (Ps. 105:8).
I thank God for my baptism. Do you thank God for yours?
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