Baptize my heart

All people have a day of reckoning in their lives. Most go through at least part of this in adolescence. It is a time in which we call into question everything that our parents have taught us. In a way, it’s almost like a reversion back to that stage of our lives when we first learned to ask questions. The difference being that now, instead of asking our parents “why?” and taking their answer as truth, we ask ourselves the question and search out the truth on our own. In order to truly function as an adult in society, this is a process that each human being must go through. The more thorough our self-examination of the world, the better. Of course, this means even religious beliefs must be put to the test. After all, how much meaning is there in believing something because our parents did?
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Religion is something so deeply personal that even our parents should not determine what it is that we believe. The truth of the matter is that until faith is tested, it is immature. The only way to truly determine one’s beliefs is to test them. When it comes time to test our faith the stream splits two ways. On one branch, the current gets stronger, while on the current of the other branch fades. Many people live their lives holding their noses as they try to steer their raft along the swamp of their faith, doing their best to avoid the dead trees and rotten logs that float across their path. These unfortunate souls don’t even realize that they could be having the time of their lives whitewater rafting, caught in the currents of a mighty river. Of course, there is a third option.3

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Some people look at the river and the swamp and say that only weak or lazy people float on the water. The claim that those who are truly strong prefer to walk on solid ground, in complete control of themselves. These people walk away from the swamp, they turn from the river, and wander into the desert. Many of them get lost and, unfortunately, they die there. Some of them come across a river or a swamp in their wanderings. These people are usually offered a ride from those who are traveling by water. One of two things then occurs. The desert-wanderer may angrily refuse the water, insisting that the water is the weak way to travel; this man is destined to die. The other option is for the man to acquiesce and climb onto a raft until he is able to fashion his own. This man has once again found his life. Whatever the case may be, one thing is certain: those who ride the river do not take an easy route, and they do not get there or stay there without testing their endurance.5

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The choice of faith is more than just choosing which church one likes best, or which is the most comfortable, or even which is the most popular. It is a choice between right and wrong, life and death, Heaven and Hell. The choice must not be made lightly, but the choice must be made.
Jen Thompson was at the fork in her stream. Jen was a seventeen-year-old, born-again Christian, who was attempting the daunting task of determining her future. A senior in high school, Jen was applying to colleges, trying to win scholarships, and comparing interest rates on student loans all while trying to maintain friendships, academics, work, chores at home, and church. On top of that, Jen - as many teenagers do - found her parents to be oppressive tyrants who were trying to use God as a way to control their child. 7