My Baptism, Lord Help Me – Growing Up in Dublin, Texas

My Mom tried to get us kids to church and Sunday School, man I hated it I would have rather been playing outside rifing bikes, or down by the stockyards or trying to catch a crawfish with a piece of bacon on a string, down by the drainage pipe which ran beneath the road just before the railroad trac, or catching tadpoles in the same location.

Well she got us into the Church and Sunday School, and how she corralled Dad to go to Church I will never know. Guess Brother James M. Bradford was the first preacher he ever trusted not to be after money.

I still have my first bible. It is small testament, pocket sized and called the “Soul Winners New Testament”.

It was pretty cool cause it already had the items of importance to read underlined for you. Given to me in May of 1960. Saved the same year we moved to South Texas.

I remember being saved. That was a something else to have that feeling crawl over you and compel you to walk down that isle, and ask to be saved. Kinda of nice knowing your sins up to that time are washed away in one easy swoosh. But that feeling was nothing, compared to the actual Baptism itself.

I had always seen the Church from one side, going in the back rooms it somehow lost its Churchliness, and it felt like another building. Anyway I had to go to a room and change into a white cloth like robe, i kept my underwear on by the way. Then us saved souls went down a hallway and then had to wait. While waiting I could just see out into the Church itself and the few steps which lead up to the Baptismal waters. It was like fixing to go onto a stage with all those folks watching.

My turn finally came. I walked up the steps as Brother Bradford called out my name. He reached up from the tank of Baptismal water toward me, I took his hand and walked down the steps into the water.

My first reaction was , “Jesus ! This water is cold.” but I kept it to myself as i did not think it wise to yell that out. Wading into the w it came up to my armpits, and I could bearly see over the top of the tank. After saying the words he had said several time earlier this evening he guided me to stand just to his right and a bit in front and perpendicular to him.

He placed his right hand on my upper back and with the left he grabbed my nose and proceeded to drown me. At least that was what I thought I could see through the water as I looked up. He was talking and I could hear him but not understand him as the water blocked his speech. I was wanting to get up and out from under this water then he finally let me up.

I felt saved all right. Jesus made sure I did not drown that evening.
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Hope you enjoyed my ramblings and that it brought back few memories of you childhood days, no matter what state you hail from.

© Texas Tortilla Factory 2006 – Mike Vauthier