In the Name of the Father, the Son and a Big Sister
I tossed my three year old girl in the tub with her ten year old big sister the other night.
(I asked permission from my oldest first…she still has a lot of little girl left in her and welcomed the toys. Oh, and I didn’t actually toss my toddler).
They played and splashed and I went to the kitchen for just a minute, until I heard my youngest crying.
I hurried back in to my oldest BEAMING and my youngest sniffling.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Mom, guess what?” my oldest said in a very excited voice. “I helped her ask Jesus into her heart! She repeated a prayer after me!”
“Honey, that’s great,” I said, watching my toddler nod her head in agreement, with a giant tear rolling down her cheek. “But why is she crying?”
“Oh. Well, I also baptized her.”
(No sprinkling here, people. Full immersion)
(And, later on my toddler told me “Baby Jesus gotted in my heart by my belly button”. We don’t split theological hairs here, either).
