A Father, A Daughter & A Baptism

This is a story about forgiveness, grace and healing.

But first, there was a divorce a long time ago. 47 years to be exact. And even though the decisions made by my parents, struggling to do the best they could in their new grown-up world, had a profound impact on my life, the story that beckons to be told today happened years later when my father and I reconciled and sought to put back the pieces of a relationship for which we both longed.

During this time of reconciliation and healing, my father and I meet regularly to share stories and rediscover the joy of bonding as a family. It would be so easy to spiral down into regret for what was lost over the years, but thankfully there seems to be an unspoken code that our time together is about moving forward.

During one of my visits with him and his wife, I decided to share my decision to return to school and study religion. His reply was immediate and sincere. He said, “Great. I want you to baptize me.”



The request caught me off guard, and I recall stammering for a reply. I had not thought about the end result of my studies and to what exactly I was being called to do. But here in front of me was a man, who happened to be my father, with a spiritual need and who was seeking my help.

The familiar saying goes, “God doesn’t call the equipped: He equips the called.” With that mantra stuck in my head, I replied that I would be honored to baptize him. I then set my focus on preparing myself for one of the most sacred of sacraments within the Christian tradition.

While I knew that scripture affirmed that anyone could offer the sacrament of baptism, the “anyone” part of that statement did not excuse “anyone” from not being prepared spiritually before administering this sacrament. To that end, I wanted to ensure that I was as prepared to administer the baptism as my father was ready to receive it.



During the next few times we met, we would talk about God, religion and the significance of baptism. He shared with me his experience with church, his reluctance to be connected to a church going forward, and I assured him that attending church was not a prerequisite for connecting to God.We agreed that the baptism would happen on his birthday in August. The birthday baptism quickly became a family event, where over 50 people would be attending to bear witness. Understandably, I became nervous. My first baptism would be my father with a large audience as witness.

And oh, did I mention that I was expected to walk into a pond, fully immerse him into the water, and bring him safely back up and out of the water? Anyone who has spent time in a pond, as I did growing up on farms, knows one does not simply “walk” into a pond: one “sinks” into mud up to one’s calves and attempts to stay upright until deep enough to swim. Yes, this was going to be interesting.



In the end, I need not have worried about the details, such as I am prone to do in life. The gathering took on an air of celebration, with my family of jokesters taking bets on some of the day’s events, ranging from how long I would keep him immersed to who would be the first to fall in the mud!

With everyone gathered by the pond, my father and I were able to spend a few minutes alone in the house and reflect on the journey that brought us to this moment. As I left him to spend time alone with God before he joined the rest of us by the pond, we were both emotional and filled with love.

As he walked from the home by himself toward all of us gathered by the pond, his solo walk was symbolic of our life’s walk when we are without God. Halfway to the pond, Dad was joined by my daughter-in-law, who serenaded him with “Down to the River to Pray.”

With a prayer, scripture reading by my step-daughter, and an acknowledgement of needing God in his life and Christ as his Savior, Dad and I entered the water. My nephew was gracious enough to strip to shorts and enter the water with us and assist with the baptism.



And then it was over. I had baptized my father.

The rest of the day continued as a celebration of the baptism, my father’s birthday, but also of a family healing. There were tears, hugs, memories shared, pictures taken, and promises to stay connected. On this day, a family found a way to lay aside past hurts and old wounds to celebrate the relationships restored and the spiritual bond that flowed through all of us.

Each of us understood that we were a part of something far greater than any distant memory from the past. In the end, a father and a daughter found their way back to each other, to trust in God’s timing to restore relationships so that each could use the other, one with a desire to be baptized and the other willing to answer the call to baptize.

By a small pond in Indiana’s countryside, God was indeed there, and love flowed.