Washed in the Water

I have never been baptized. Despite accepting Christ as my personal savior years ago, it just never made any sense to me. Baptism doesn’t change your salvation and it seemed unimportant and also connected to two very scary and distasteful things: being a public spectacle and having someone submerging me under water-I didn’t see the need. The church I went to for many years really didn’t make much of it either so I never considered it. Until 2025 when I started attending my current church and the pastor brought it up all the time, saying “it’s the first step of obedience to Christ” …. WHAT? Obedience…baptism…. never heard such a thing.

I signed up to be baptized earlier this year in February of 2026 and much to my surprise the Saturday afternoon before I was to go under, I spiked a fever of 102 and missed my chance. I watched online and though to myself, “I was supposed to be there” and was assured I could join up the next time. Unexpectedly I felt disappointed. For something that “didn’t matter” I suddenly found myself in a whole bunch of matter. Before I could sign up for the May baptism there was an announcement that the church was going to Israel and there would be an opportunity to be baptized in the Jordan River-the place that Jesus was baptized. Say no more. I waited a few weeks talking to God about the trip saying “it’s really not in my budget” thinking I would have to pass on the trip of a lifetime and to a place I had wanted to go for a long time. Then without thinking I just signed up and said “okay God, I really really, really want to go, I am going to go…you’ll bless it right? Right?”

Prior to leaving, I had no expectations for the trip. Maybe some trepidation that I was going to be a tourist with 157 other people on a busy schedule schlepping around the nation on a bus for 10 days, sharing a room with a stranger and having no solitude (which as an introvert is nearly a death sentence). The only thing I wanted was to be near God, hope that my bible knowledge would grow and that God would show up along the way. If I really thought about it, I asked Him to pour more concrete into my boots and I would have more certainty to share my faith with others.

My first blessing (after safe travel), was my roommate. On every trip I have taken I get my own room so I can have some down time to process where I went, what I experienced and have some quiet time to renew my introvert spirit. This trip I not only had a roommate, but she was a total stranger I didn’t meet until we landed in Tel Aviv. She new another woman on the trip and was spending time with her when we got to our hotel and being sleepy, I texted that I was heading to bed and kept some lights on for her. I woke up at 1:40am and could not go back to sleep. After tossing around like a dying fish, I heard her moving around at 3 am and whispered “are you awake?” thank the good Lord she was and we could get up-no more fish bake in the sheets. We started talking and didn’t stop for the entirety of the trip. We connected in a wonderful way and I didn’t feel desperate for introversion as we could share space easily and she shared a playful nature that made everything we did more fun. I can say for certain that Israel would not have been half as meaningful if she wasn’t on it with me. The best part of this blessing is that it followed me home and we can be friends in real life.

I didn’t sleep much on the first part of the trip. The first night I was up at 1:40am and my roommate woke up at 3am for gabbing and getting to know each other a bit before we started our bus ride for the day. The second night I woke up at 2:40am in a new hotel with a balcony and view of the Sea of Galilee. I apparently was gifted the last watch of the night and snuck out on the balcony with my headphones around 3am to worship and pray. God woke me up for some introvert time with Him and made sure I was full up for the day ahead of riding the bus all over the sea to see so many places.

One of the afternoons we climbed up to the top of Mt. Arbel. Before we got off the bus I was singing “How great is our God” and felt prepared for something with that song in my mouth. Climbing up to the top you can see the entire sea region. The wind was blowing and there were several large rocks around-just enough for a little kid scramble. Pastor Jeff had a message and when everyone said “Amen” the sound echoed in my bones and I was desperately pressed to start singing. But the moment was too quick and I was too chicken to lift my voice in front of everyone. It’s my deepest regret from the whole trip.

I know why Jesus went away from the crowds to the top of a mountain to pray. I felt him there. He made my nature similar and I copy this in my spiritual practice. I can’t hear God or feel him in a crowd unless I am plugged in, overflowing and have enough to pour out. I need my refill in his presence and he knew that so he woke me up early to fit it in on a balcony above the sea.

I honestly can’t remember the days and how many there were before this or that happened and I am not a type A to go get the itinerary and be accurate in my retelling (I am not recording like Matthew). The night before baptism) which kept switching last minute, I prayed to sleep through the night and I did. I think I had more anticipation for baptism as a nervous energy than as a hopeful one. Being surrounded by 157 people was not calming for me and I was abuzz making conversation in a line and catching others’ emotions rather than tuning into my inner self. Before I left, I was talking with Pastor Joe at church about being baptized in the Jordan and missing my February baptism. I knew most of the tour was going to be baptized again for the second time but didn’t know of anyone else going for their first time and I wanted to make sure as my first time it was relevant. At church, everyone wears a black shirt that says “no turning back”. I wore it on the plane to Israel, because this was my pilgrimage to learn about my inheritance and a way to be obedient after such a delay in my faith journey and I wasn’t turning back, not to the way I was before and as a commitment I wasn’t missing this again.  I went to Israel to see what Jesus did when he was on earth and to follow him in those things. When I was confronted with the white baptism smock that they pass out to everyone I had a mini freak out. It was such a revolting idea to me to have to wear it that if it was a rule I was going to back out of the whole thing. My skin was crawling and I really, really didn’t want to wear it. My roommate was assuring me I would be fine, and pastor Jeff said he didn’t have a problem with me wearing my shirt-I let go of my panic and walked in the full glory of one back sheep to my baptism joking that all the other sheep behind me were following the black one into the water. I was not excited for the next part. Even though it’s merely a second under water, the though of someone else putting me under water was another layer that delayed me from earlier baptism. I almost downed when I was little and the thought of not have control to dunk myself was subtle in my mind but present non the less. I must have mentioned something about drowning when I met up with Pastor Jeff because he assured me I wouldn’t. The girl behind me was assuring me that I would feel different when I came up and that it was such an experience but I was in my head with all the commotion and after hearing Pastor Jeff assure me on the way up that I did it and I was ok (I really must have had a face on) she asked how I felt and my response was “wet”. Walking out of the water, Rachel-my roommate-was there to hug me and she gave me a full-on embrace that helped center me and my feelings for what had just happened along with jokes that my shirt did not change colors and come clean in the water.

Later when everyone had fallen asleep, I wasn’t able to. After another fish flopping event I got up around 11pm to go outside for some more worship time on the balcony. After an hour my feet hurt and I had to sit down. I put on my favorite song “Just like Heaven” and had it play on repeat through my head. I was spent. I had visited the pool earlier in the day and my towel had dried on the balcony and in need for a tissue I completely soaked that towel in my tears and snot until 2am. God was with me pour over me so much love I literally couldn’t “get enough of your presence”, His “singing over me” and wanted so desperately for Him to “come a little closer, stay a little longer” and He did. I was wrung out in my guts, empty of everything and so full of Him I couldn’t contain it. Every time I constricted tears would leak out of my face in abundance. The only other time in my life I had so much liquid pouring out of me is 11 years ago when I was in the deepest grief of my life when I moved out and was going through divorce when I found myself on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor with the largest puddle of tears, snot and saliva soaking the rug under me in repentance, sorrow and grief of such depth only my soul can testify to as words fail. I couldn’t breathe then either. This time was a similar body experience with the liquids emerging from my insides but this was a filling, and overflowing that I couldn’t contain nor explain with words. The true washing and cleansing of my soul.

The rest of the trip God showed up for me in my seconds of quiet time I found on the bus, smooshed down in my seat hiding from the world, or early in the morning on the 6^th floor balcony (I didn’t have one in Jerusalem and I slept every night after) before others made their way out there, I could raise my hands in praise. He was faithful to give me moments of him, not in the moment at a site, but when my headphones were in and I was transported alone with him on a mountain top. After viewing the wailing wall and experiencing the people that were there to pray, I felt so blessed that I didn’t have to walk away from his presence. I don’t have to live near a wall that’s on the other side of the globe to be in the presence of God because I am the wall and he lives in me. He goes with me if I descend to the depths he is with me, if I go ascend to heaven he is with me. He redeemed me from the pit and set my feet upon a rock and put a new song in my mouth. He set me, the captive, free. Every time I go before him with worship, I pray My Father who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name. It centers me, it puts me in the right place to find him, to feel his presence and to be overflowed by his goodness and love.

I left a part of myself in Israel and I know that I will be back. I didn’t want to leave so I know I will return. If I don’t make it there in the flesh of this life, I know I will be at the East gate following Him through when He returns. Israel is my inheritance also, the land is part of my story and their history belongs to me as much as it belongs to them because I have been grafted in to it as a follower of my rabbi Jesus. It was there he bled and died for me so that I could chose eternity with him when I am the one who deserves that death. His mercies are deep and ever unfolding, I can never fully grasp the gift he has given and I am so grateful for his love and mercy in my life. He is a God of blessing and goodness and the lover of my soul. It is well with my soul.