Certainty
/We traveled to Mansfield last weekend for our granddaughter’s baptism at Rush Creek Church – Mansfield West. It was a joyous affair. I don’t know how often this church has baptisms; the setup was not a permanent installation, but it was quick and celebratory. The morning we were there they baptized ten, ranging from our 8-year-old granddaughter up to two high school juniors.
After looking around at the people sitting in the front five or six rows of the worship center, I mentioned to Cyndi that either the demographics of this church skewed much older than I’d expected, or we were all grandparents who were here for the baptisms.
When we first arrived at the church we noticed small pieces of paper on every chair. Each paper had two peel-off dots each about ¾” diameter - the type used to mark prices at a garage sale. The campus pastor, Scott Oldenburgh, asked us to write the name of someone on each dot – someone who needed more of Jesus in their life – and then peel off the dots and stick them to the underside of our chairs. He said they do this every few months and if we looked under the chairs we’d see several dots and names. He said, “Every chair has a name, and every name has a story, and every story matters to God.”
The baptisms took place in a long, narrow metal trough positioned front and center on the stage. Each person climbed in and sat on the bottom of the trough. The youngsters were baptized by Children’s Minister Misty Nailon after answering a question or two, then climbed out and huddled dripping under their towel while the rest of the group were baptized. It was holy and joyful and practical all at the same time. It reminded me of a quote I captured from Dennis Okholm’s book Monk Habits for Everyday People: Benedictine Spirituality for Protestants. He wrote, “Benedictine spirituality is not glamorous. It is extraordinarily ordinary.” That feels right to me.
Our granddaughter was brave to be the first in line, which meant she stood longest in her wet clothes. I wasn’t surprised. I’m used to bold courage and stubborn determinations from her.
I often tell people I live among a multi-generational tribe of strong women. From Landy and her sister Madden, to their mother and my daughter, Katherine, to my wife Cyndi, to her mother Deanna, to Cyndi’s grandmother Ruby, and then to her great-grandmother Stella (who owned Smith’s Grocery and served as U.S. Postmaster for Tolar, NM).
This powerful lineage makes me happy. I’m stronger and braver because I live alongside these women.
On Saturday we all had lunch together: Katie and her girls, Cyndi and me, Byron and Angela (another strong woman, by the way). After our tasty hamburgers we visited the Dallas Makerspace where Byron and Angela have a membership. It’s a huge 36,000 square-foot warehouse of tools and equipment and ideas. As we walked through, we saw members making ceramics, woodworking, repairing auto parts, programing electronics, using 3-D printers, and lots more. The entire space felt to me like an invitation to learn new skills and turn ideas into stories.
Angela told us a sad story about a man who, just a few days before, dropped his beautifully completed laser-etched cutting board and watched it shatter on the floor. People in the room, all working on their own projects, held their breath as he picked up the pieces. It was heartbreaking for everyone.
There is no certainty in life no matter how much we try for it. Our efforts can be shattered no matter how hard we work or how much our ourselves we invest. Ozan Varol wrote, “Our yearning for certainty leads us to pursue seemingly safe solutions. Were certainty ends, progress begins.” (Think Like A Rocket Scientist)
Pursuing safe solutions may feel logical, but it may cause us to miss the beauty of handmade cutting boards.
The baptism of a beautiful 8-year-old girl in not an act of certainty. It doesn’t guarantee she’ll always make great choices or never be distracted by our crazy world. But it a picture of hope, and hope always trumps certainty.
“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32
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