I’m Blessed

Yesterday was Ingrid’s baptism.  Yep, this is about as good as a family picture gets these days.  It’s way better than what I’d expect because we didn’t prep the kids at all for this picture.  When you yank the kids away from their friends at church and say “stand here and smile” while 3 people with cameras shoot multiple times, well…this is what you get.

There are 2 antique baptismal gowns used in Knut’s family, and we’ve always used one for the boys, and one for the girls.  One of the gowns was passed down through his mom’s side, and one was passed down through his dad’s side.  This is the one from his mom’s side.  It’s at least 130 years old.

I always feel so blessed, and so terrified to put my children in one of these gowns.  The 2 thoughts that overwhelm me at those times are “It’s such an honor and a privilege that we get to use this!” and “Baby, this is not the time to poop up the back.  No spitting, no pooping, no nothing.”

We happened to have communion not long after the baptism, and the kids were climbing on Ingrid and I and I was getting nervous about the gown, so I promptly changed her during the service before I stained or ripped it.  Unfortunately, Ingrid and I got one new small tear near a cuff when changing, thought my mother in law said it’s not the first time she’s had to repair a tear like that.  These gowns are getting so thin.  Later that night, we put her back in it for pictures.

I love the little lace sleeves on this one.  Isn’t it lovely?

I know during an event like this, it’s easy to get caught up in the clothes.  It’s easy to marvel at the workmanship and heritage.  It’s easy to remember things like she cried in the pastor’s arms, and was wide awake for everything.

However, what brings to me tears whenever I reflect on one of my children being baptized is not the gown, or the heritage of a family that doesn’t even have any remembrance of NOT knowing God in our history.

It’s grace.  It’s adoption.  God adopts my children into HIS family.  This gown is stunning, but it is rags in comparison to the garment of Christ.

I’m so blessed by grace.  I’m so blessed to have my children participate in that grace.  When I think of the love of God,

I’m overwhelmed.

I’m so blessed.