Lately I have found myself full of memories. Most of my formative years were rather painful, as I was misdiagnosed with several different mental-health problems & coming-of -age was harder for me than it is for most " neurotypical" people.
But there was one group of people besides my immediate family who always " had my back" { so to speak}
The people of Hill Top Presbyterian Church in rural Ohio, I salute you.
Since both my parents are & were unchurched, I was not baptized until the second year of my first attempt at college. It was a late summer evening late summer when I knocked on the door of the parsonage of the little Presbyterian church within walking distance of my home in Ohio. Normally I wasn't in the habit of knocking on parsonage doors, but I'd felt led by the Spirit Herself to walk myself up that hill & inquire about receiving the Sacrament of Holy Baptism.
When I told Jenny, the minister at the time, of my desire to be baptized, she said:
"Sarah, I have been praying for you to ask about baptism for a long time. Of course I'll baptize you."
Naturally it wasn't quite * that* easy. The Session{ the governing body of a local Presbyterian congregation} had to approve of my baptism.
The date was set for a Sunday morning in early October. I'd come home from college for the weekend & was very excited to be "officially" adopted into the Family of Christ who had nurtured my walk with God for several years.
Although I'm proudly Episcopalian, I'll be forever grateful to the people of Hill Top Church who took me in as a " spiritual orphan" & formally adopted me into the Family of God.
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