by Grace Rolyat

Created on: July 09, 2009   Last Updated: July 14, 2009

One of my earliest memories of a Godly experience was around the time when I was seven. My mother, who grew up in the church had just decided to return a short time earlier and she had started taking me along. I remember always being so excited; the ladies of the church would be cooking, creating masterpieces and the smell of fried chicken could make Colonel Sanders cry. The glorious praise coming from the congregation, the singing, praise and worship of all the people filled with the spirit. Plus I got to dress up! It was like a huge party and I was invited every Sunday. I was too young to understand many of the sermons; or really grasp the concept of the Holy Ghost, but what I did love was the very end.

Slightly disappointed that it meant a whole week until it was to begin again. I was still excited because the remaining fifteen minutes was something I did understand and eventually participated in. Our minister always asked, for backsliders and anyone who wanted to be saved, or baptized. With no clue to what a backslider was, I remained curious from what I may need saving. Nevertheless, I was in awe of those brave enough to take that plunge to the altar. To tell God how you've been wrong and living without him and to become willing to receive his love. I was moved by this experience. Watching grown men and women standing and weeping; bowing their heads now freshly anointed with the holy oil on their foreheads. (That seemed to remain there for at least a week!)

My favorite part was yet to come, the baptisms. I recall being so mesmerized by someone all dressed in white, stepping down into their own personal pool of praise and casually yet ever so gently being laid back and submerged under the water. They would arise anew, and I would be flabbergasted! I would often attempt to recreate the event later in my own bathtub of Mr. Bubble, but no such luck.

Then I asked my mother if I could be baptized. Imagine my joy, when she said yes. I remember that Sunday and finally the end of church was upon me. I began to get nervous and was a little unsure if I would pull it off. I walked to the altar and received my dressing gown, and when it was my turn I stepped into the tub and a man in similar attire, took my hand to lead me down. Never noticing the hundreds of witnesses with their eyes glued on me; a baptismal prayer was said and I was under.

Sunken in the tub, I began to feel something indescribable, something that can only be classified as a transformation. The water surrounded my body fizzing all over, and cleansing my adolescent soul. I was forever changed. It was as if my eyes were open through God, and I could see the world for what it was. The good and the bad, the wonderful as well as the sad, I was officially a child of God! That experience has allowed me to become the woman I am today. Not always making the best decisions, but I am never alone in my choices or without God's love.

Learn more about this author, Grace Rolyat.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.