“So, what kind of church is this?”  My little younger brother asked of my approaching baptism.

“Oh, you know…the usual,”  I replied, “black hooded capes and candles and stuff.  You know..the usual.”

“Of course,” he said.

(NOTE:  SARCASM)

This baptism was a little less nerve-wracking than my first – or, I would imagine, anyhow.  I wore a cute little white frilly thing for my first baptism, and this past Easter Sunday, I stood in front of my closet trying to decide between a pair of gray drawstring pants or khaki capris – the only two pairs of “pants” that still fit me (with the exception of some very HOT blue and yellow spongebob pajama pants).  It was a tough call, but ultimately I went with the capris after having carefully calculated exactly who had seen me in which bottoms the most that previous week.

S and I arrived at the church early for an Easter “break-fast”, leaving L to come in time for the services with my mom.  I took advantage of the smorgasborg and piled my plate high, knowing that soon I’d have to move back to pants that use real buttons rather than elastic bands.  Besides, Aurora made me.

The service itself was great, well…except for one thing.  I really thought Mike was going to break out into a solo with his microphone but alas, he did not.  My disappointment dissipated quickly, though, as it WAS Easter – that, and my attention span was burning a little short thanks to the (delicious) breakfast we’d had earlier.

As I waddled walked out the side door to prepare for the baptism, L screamed her protest.  I swear the kid wanted NOTHING to do with me until the moment she thought I was going somewhere.  So, we went ahead and brought her to the back.  I was handed something that looked much like a summertime blue space suit – and despite my request to have one specially trimmed in white lace, I ended up donning the suit as was.  I’m sure they simply forgot.

I had also discussed with certain members that I would like my own theme song and some special back-lighting.  I figured if they’d just hold me up as I entered the water, I could do some fancy footwork and make this a service nobody would soon forget.  Instead, they just stared at me.

“What?  You mean I actually have to walk down the steps by myself?  Or, do I wait for you to push me?”

They let me walk.

I do have to say, though – they did warm the water up quite nicely and the area really is the perfect size for a water birth.  And, much closer to hospitals (just in case).  So…I’m thinking…

Anyways, it was great and wonderful (even without the theme music, lace, and lighting), but I’m pretty sure I traumatized my poor sweet L – seeing as how she screamed bloody murder when I went underwater.  After that, she wouldn’t leave my side until I was dressed and standing out front again with all sorts of plugs and outlets nearby to play with.  Sorry kid, I know it was your birthday and Easter and all, but I thought it’d be fun to make you think I was being drowned (I maybe should’ve explained what was going to happen to you first?)

Oh…and I’m a little upset that nobody told me you’d only be able to see my hairline and up since I’m so short.  Had I known, I’d totally have packed some moon-shoes and hair-sprayed my hair up into a cute but very large beehive so at least people could see my hair.  Just sayin’.

That – and, a trapeze or some dolphins.  Oh, and the stairs coming down?  Totally needs to be a water slide.  For real.

But really…it was perfect.

(My hot attire without the lace I requested)

(No wonder L screamed.  It does kind of look like he’s drowning me – which he wasn’t.)

(This should so be a slide.  That, and Steven thinks I look like Mary here.  A very pregnant Mary with swollen ankles.  And no lace.)

Welcome back!

Little white bunnies freak me out.

Mostly, it’s the red eyes, I think. The bloody redness and oh, the fact that it reminds me of BUNNICULA. Am I seriously the only one who read that book in grade school? Why can’t white bunnies just have…purple eyes. Or beady black eyes. Can’t we just tape some googly eyes on them and pretend that’s how they come? Oh wait, animal cruelty, right.

I just had to get that off my chest…which is not to insinuate I have bunnies lying on my chest. I give up. Moving on.

A few months ago, I found my doula. And, she invited me to her church. I decided to go just for the heck of it – I really had no real reason to go, seeing as I’m Catholic and this isn’t a Catholic church…it just seemed like the thing to do at the time. I really can’t explain it. I wasn’t going FOR anyone and I really didn’t know WHY I was going…I just was. And I did. And it was great.

So, I kept going. Then, as my husband and my relationship began to strengthen again, I invited him to come with us – and he liked it too. It was different. We’ve church hopped enough to know pretty quickly how to blend in and then run if called for…but, there was none of that at this church. We’d been awed before by the beautiful architecture of churches we’d attended, by the great amount of classrooms for excruciatingly set up for tiny hands, and elaborate choirs with some of the pretty music ever. But, with this church…there was something different. Something else captured our hearts.

At first, we couldn’t put our finger on it…and then we found it. It was the people. Generally, out here where we live, (or in our experience) small churches generally mean very close-minded “old” views. But, not here. No, here it was small and close-knit where people know each other and they STILL liked them! It was a place filled with all sorts of people and no Bible bashing or smack talking behind pews. I’ve been a part of churches where everyone knows each other’s names, but there was always that gossip-y feel to it. Here, if you get sick, people band together to bring you food. Here, if you do something stupid, people may call you out on it but they do it with love and they hold your hand ANYWAYS.

What’s more is they WANT to grow. To continue growing…in their faith and outreach and everything else. To me…that’s pretty much amazing. It’s like God made this church with me in mind. The pastor will straight up tell you that he doesn’t believe any one faith has it completely right, that we all have much to learn from everyone….Do you know how refreshing that is to hear after being basically told that MY FAITH wasn’t good enough only 6 months ago by someone else?

So, this Sunday I’ll be getting baptized.

“Oh, but weren’t you already baptized? I thought you are Catholic?!”

Yep. I’ve officially been baptized. As a Catholic baby. And, funny enough I’m not doing this to be saved or for an extra double punch on my ticket to heaven. Because, while some people can answer the questions of “When did you come to Christ” with an exact date, I can tell you that I was born and baptized into the Christian faith and that every day of my life has been a walk with God…honest. There were days when I ran from Him, trying to hide of course and days where I thought I probably knew better than Him. There were days when I was angry with Him because I didn’t like how things were going, but every day of my life has been a walk with Him. I never doubted that. And, no matter where I tried to hide, He always found me and wrapped me up in love. Sunday, though, will be a day that I get to experience an extra blessing (as it was put to me) – the experience to be baptized in a DIFFERENT way, to experience baptism by immersion. I will still be Ashley, and I’ll still be the girl who refuses to follow all of the rules at once, making them up as I go. I won’t suddenly have a new way of believing things and I won’t be letting go of all I’ve learned. Sunday night, my faith will still resemble a beautiful mosaic of colorful glass pieces from every life lesson and God lesson I’ve learned, regardless which faith (or how) it came to me.

And, I find it a bit humorous that by default Aurora will be baptized on Sunday, too. Can you imagine the possible future conversation?:

“So, Aurora…have you been baptized BY IMMERSION yet?”
“Oh yes. On April 12, 2009, Actually.”
“Wait. Right here it says your birthdate was April 20, 2009. Do we need to change your records?”
“No. You have it right.”

I’m secretly trying to figure out how to go into labor in the baptismal font. I’d get a free water birth and THEY would be the first church in (recent) history (maybe) that baptized a baby by IMMERSION.