The Power of Baptism
October 29, 2025
Faith Story Series — Part Four
This post is part of my Faith Story Series, where I’m sharing how God’s light met me in the wilderness — one chapter at a time.
In Part Three, I wrote about meeting Jesus for the first time through a teenage girl’s diary — the moment I first said yes to following Him. This next chapter continues that journey with the day I publicly declared my faith: my baptism at thirteen.
A Step of Faith
I was thirteen when I was baptized at Pike Lake Presbyterian — a small country church with creaky wooden pews and the kind of warmth that made everyone feel like family. The congregation was small, but the hearts inside it were big.
That morning, I stood before the church with my step-sister. We had just completed our confirmation classes together. My dad, stepmom, stepbrother, and grandparents sat proudly in the front row, their smiles steadying my nerves. I remember the way the light filtered through the stained-glass windows and how the air felt sacred — calm, still, and expectant.
I was nervous being in front of everyone, but underneath the nerves was joy. Deep, childlike joy. I had always believed in God. I had never doubted His existence — not once. My faith felt as natural as breathing. Church had always been a place of safety for me, a second home where I felt seen and protected. So standing there that day, saying “yes” to Jesus, wasn’t a question. It was the most natural thing I could do.
The Meaning I Knew — and the Meaning I’d Learn
At thirteen, I didn’t fully understand the symbolism of baptism. I knew it was about new life in Christ — being washed clean and saved from sin. But the idea of dying to my old self? That understanding came much later.
Back then, I thought faith meant trying hard to be good. I wanted to make God proud, to live up to the kind of faith my dad modeled. But growing up, life would teach me that being “good” wasn’t what God wanted most — He wanted surrender.
I didn’t know it yet, but baptism wasn’t just about declaring belief. It was a foreshadowing — a promise that one day, I would learn what it really meant to lay my old self down and rise again in Him.
“We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.” — Romans 6:4
Learning to Die to Self
That deeper understanding didn’t come easily. It came through years of striving, stumbling, and eventually surrendering.
For much of my life, I lived in survival mode — worrying excessively, trying to control outcomes, and carrying burdens that weren’t mine to carry. I thought if I could just manage everything perfectly, I’d be okay. But beneath that control was fear — fear of becoming my mother, fear of losing people I loved, fear of failure.
It wasn’t until I faced my own brokenness — particularly when I made the choice to give up alcohol — that I began to understand what dying to self really meant. It wasn’t about punishment or loss; it was about release. It was about laying down pride, fear, and the illusion of control so God could replace them with peace.
Admitting that I was becoming like my mom was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But when I finally confessed that truth, something holy happened. The shame I had carried for years — the shame of my choices, my family’s dysfunction, and my own perceived failures — began to wash away.
Baptism had given me a picture of that all those years ago: the going under, the letting go, the rising again. But it would take time — and pain — for me to truly live it.
“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” — Luke 9:23
What Baptism Means to Me Now
Today, baptism means more than it ever did at thirteen. It’s no longer just a ceremony — it’s a symbol of transformation. It’s about leaving shame in the water and rising as someone made whole.
When I look back, I see that moment as both an ending and a beginning — an ending to the guilt and striving of my childhood faith, and the beginning of walking with Jesus as a friend, healer, and redeemer.
When I picture that baptism day now, I don’t just see the water — I see grace. I see the Father’s love pouring out over me, declaring, “You are mine.”
I think that’s the beauty of baptism: it isn’t about the act itself, but about what it represents — a life continually being renewed by the love of God.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” — 2 Corinthians 5:17
The Bridge to the Storms Ahead
I didn’t know it then, but the strength I drew from my baptism — the steady assurance that I belonged to God — would soon become my anchor in the hardest season of my life.
That day at thirteen, I felt washed clean and made new, unaware of how much I would need that truth in the years ahead. Life has a way of testing the faith we profess — of asking us to live out what we once only believed in theory.
In time, my world would shift in ways I couldn’t have imagined. The foundation I had built on family, faith, and security would tremble. Yet even when everything around me began to change, that baptismal promise — you are mine — would echo through the storm.
It would remind me that faith isn’t proven in peaceful waters, but in the waves that try to pull us under.
A Moment for You
Maybe you can remember your own baptism — that sacred moment when faith felt new and full of promise. Or maybe you haven’t taken that step yet, but something in your heart longs for a fresh start — for the peace that comes from being made new in Christ.
Baptism isn’t just about the water; it’s about the witness — the quiet confidence that even when life shifts beneath our feet, we belong to a God who never changes. It’s about learning, again and again, to rise when the waves come.
Take a moment to reflect:
What does “new life in Christ” mean to you right now — in this season of your story?
Are there old fears, habits, or ways of thinking that God might be inviting you to release — to let sink beneath the surface so you can rise renewed?
How has God used past seasons of calm to prepare you for the storms that followed?
Remember this truth: baptism is more than a beginning — it’s a promise. The same God who met you in the waters will meet you in the waves.
Closing Prayer
Father, thank You for the gift of new life — for washing away the old and calling us into something beautiful and true. Teach us what it means to live as people made new, not just once, but every day. When the waves rise and life begins to shake, remind us of who we are — Yours. Help us to release what no longer serves us, to trust You in the unknown, and to walk forward in grace and confidence.
May our lives reflect the promise of baptism — that even in the deepest waters, Your love still holds.
Amen.
Scripture Reminders
Romans 6:4 — “We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.”
Luke 9:23 — “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”
2 Corinthians 5:17 — “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
Disclaimer: This reflection shares my personal story and faith journey. It is not professional counseling advice or a substitute for mental-health care. If parts of my story resonate with your own, please reach out to a trusted counselor, pastor, or mental-health professional for support.
With grace and light,
Jess
