My friend, Bobbie Morris recently gave an open testimony about her baptism and what it meant to her. She gave her testimony a few weeks ago at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, located at 4419 S. Howell Avenue, Milwaukee. Summer services are held Sunday at 9 AM and Wednesdays at 7 PM.

This is Bobbies unedited story:

I Am A Child Of God

By Bobbie Morris

I am a child of God. God owns me, lock, stock, and barrel. Be bought me when I was only 16 days old with water, which is a very simple thing. William Willimon states it very simply in “Remember Who You Are”. He says “God knows we are earthlings, made of the stuff of earth-water, minerals, clay. Therefore God deals with us through earthly means, water. God uses the stuff of everyday human life to give himself to us. God then sealed the deal with a cross that was placed on my forehead with sweet oil. I was branded. I was baptized Roberta Louise Davis. It’s a day I don’t remember, but a day that has stuck with me all these years. I was his. He loved me and truly cared about me, unconditionally. Wow! My parents also loved me unconditionally, but I think this was more.

As I grew, my father taught me the Lord’s Prayer. I learned about the does and don’ts of going to church. Mostly the don’ts, don’t talk, don’t whisper, don’t fidget, sit up straight, pay attention. I learned about religion and I believed in God & Jesus, oh did I believe. Growing up in the Catholic Church, I wanted to become a nun, and like most girls, I thought if I looked saintly, I would be saintly. You know, soulful eyes, glancing upward towards heaven with a rosary in my hands. I would even wear my undershirt over my hair and become Sister Bobbie.   But that pious stuff didn’t last too long. I had younger sisters and a brother to fight with, potential boyfriends, a mom to drive crazy and a father to answer to.

I didn’t ask God for much in those days because I wasn’t important enough, but when my parents fought I did ask God to make them stop. They didn’t and my life just went on, fighting with my siblings, disobeying my parents, no miracles, no angels, no voices. I never thought about God, except in church, I figured God was just there.

In about 5th grade in catechism class, in preparation for confirmation, a nun was talking about baptism and how important it was. I don’t remember all that she said about baptism, but she told us how to baptize and how anyone could do this. She also said that if babies weren’t baptized and died, they would go to limbo. I never knew where limbo was, but I figured it was somewhere between hell and purgatory. Anyway, I had 3 sisters at home who had not been baptized and I knew it was up to me to make it right.  So when the next bath time came, I offered my services up to my parents and officially baptized them in the family bathtub. I was saving them, from what I don’t really know, but I was saving them. I really took to heart Matthew 28:19 “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”.

When I was older, married and a new mother, I again baptized my babies even though I had them officially baptized in church. I just couldn’t wait. I wanted to protect them against evil. I wanted my children to be safe. When my children grew up, married and had their own babies, I again baptized them in the bathtub. But by this time, it was more. I knew they were children of God; I wanted God to love them like he loved me.   I wanted them to know the wonders of God and what Jesus did for them. 

Somewhere between my babies and the grandchildren I got divorced and I lost my religion. This is not to say I didn’t believe in God, I DID! I didn’t believe in the church. My friend had encouraged me to go to her Lutheran church because the Pastor was “cool”. I went, but the people were “clicky”, not very friendly, and the Pastor was an actor. He wore costumes, yes, costumes like at Halloween, and tried to portray characters in the Bible.

It was the John the Baptist character and the costume that did me in. This whole thing could have been interesting on some level, but I left me cold. He was not “cool. I quit! I felt the Pastor should have kept his day job, whatever that was. I was done with religion and unfortunately so were my children.

Two things happened to wake me up:

1.        My daughter-in-law announced on day when my son & she were picking up their children after a weekend visit, that she was a “Jehovah’s Witness”. I was stunned, as the children were watching the move “Santa Clause”. What about Christmas? What about Birthdays? What about all holidays? She stated, she simply didn’t believe in them and started quoting Bible passages as her defense for her cause. I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know the Bible that well and needless to say they didn’t call me too much after that visit.

2.     My granddaughter Molli’s baptism. My husband, Bob, was her Godfather and for the first time in my life, I listened. I listened to the words, I listened to the directives. I listened to the command to “bring up this child, this child of God, as a Christian”. Teach her. Love her. She was now like me, owned by God.

I needed to read the bible. I needed to know more about Jesus so I could teach my grandchildren. I needed to surrender myself to God. Oh my! The “surrender” part was the hardest. This was a time of women’s lib. “I am woman, hear me roar.” I was trying to be self-sufficient and I could do everything myself. I had a good job, great husband, and wonderful children. What more did I need? But I had an emptiness inside, but life continued.

One day, God spoke to me. Not in words but….let me tell you my story.

I was recently let go from my job, a business decision and I was at home alone. I sent my husband off to work and the only thing I had planned that day was to clean my house, AGAIN! I was depressed and thought about going back to bed and sleeping all day. I must say that sounded real good, but that wasn’t going to happen. I sat at the kitchen table, I put my head in my hands and cried. I asked God to help me, please. I asked God to show me the way in the name of his son, Jesus. PLEASE! About a minute later, the phone rang. I dried my tears, wondering who would be calling me this early in the morning. It was my daughter. She never called me during the day, let alone in the morning. NEVER! She worked. She said she was calling me because she just felt like calling me and talking, she didn’t know why, but she felt a strong urge. We talked about my grand kids; we talked about everything and nothing. I was renewed. I knew God had answered my prayer. After I hung up the phone, I thanked God. I know He is there for me. He hadn’t turned his back on me and I vowed not to turn my back on him ever again,

I went back to church, I started to pray and read the Bible. I let myself become a servant of God and to God, trying to do his will. I must say, it isn’t easy. I know I make the wrong decisions all the time, but I know He is there, loving me and guiding me. To this day I wonder why, because I don’t feel worthy, but God still loves me. I think it is put best in John 15:16 “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you”.

I know this all to be true because of a simple sacrament that was given to me when I was 16 days old. I still have the mark on my forehead. Touch your forehead, remember your baptism and do not ever forget it.