Where were you?

With the recent anniversary of 9/11, a co-worker started a discussion we've all had before. "Do you remember where you were on 9/11? When the Challenger exploded? When JFK was shot?" The point was, these were all significant events in America's history, and, as Americans, a significant event in our lives as well.

I will probably always remember, even years from now, how I felt on 9/11. I was at work in a doctor's office, with no TV. My husband was on business in Chicago, and I was pregnant with our first child together. I remember the terror as we listened to the radio through the overhead speakers, the crying faces all around when the realization came. I remember the panic when I couldn't reach my husband on his phone as I desperately tried to call him, to beg him to stay away from the Sears Tower.

I remember sitting in the floor of my living room as a little girl, writing in my new red velvet covered diary when the Challenger exploded. I watched images over and over on our TV, too unimaginable to believe.

Our minds seem to record the details of important events. We don't specifically direct our brain to save information. It just happens. We can't really choose what we remember and what we forget.

So, if as Americans we remember events that are important in our American lives, then as Christians, do we remember the important events that occur in our Christian lives?



In 2004, I went to Biltmore Baptist Church. Each fall they have an outdoor baptism at Biltmore Lake (lots of our area landmarks and businesses are prefaced by "Biltmore", because of the Biltmore House). During that previous year, I had struggled through the premature birth and subsequent 11 day long hospital stay of my third son. I came to personally realize that God was pursuing me, and I knew that I needed to be baptised again. God told my heart this every Sunday. I would cry with conviction at the end of every service.

This is a photo of Biltmore Lake. I was rebaptised in a Believer's Baptism on August 8, 2004 in these very waters. There were tents all around, with tables set up for all the food. The prayer ministry coordinator tried very hard to find a seat under one of the tents for us, to shield my tiny baby and toddler from the August heat. I lost my footing and nearly fell back in as I rose from the water, finally, truly, washed clean of my sins.

The significance of this is two-fold. First, this was certainly a milestone on my Christian walk. A turning point. I turned toward God, and resolved to stay turned that way. Secondly, I don't remember my first baptism. I know where it was, but I don't remember the day, or how old I was. So, I guess, to my little girl mind, it wasn't so significant. It didn't seem important enough to my child brain to hold on to.

Don't you think that committing your life to Christ is worth remembering? Do you have any spiritual markers in your life? Can you vividly remember times when you have undoubtedly faced God? I'd love to hear your stories...