A View From the Font

My Daughter’s Baptism

Yesterday marked a wonderful spiritual moment in the life of my daughter but as well for me.  My dearest daughter’s baptism day had arrived.  I had previously written some thoughts about this moment and the importance in my family’s history.  The day has come, and it was wonderful.

We had invited all our extended family to attend the event, but since we moved from Arizona we knew that not everyone would be able to make it and would be surprised if anyone could.  We actually contemplated doing it back in Arizona so that we could be closer with friends and family, but ultimately decided that where our Ward is would be just fine.  My wife’s parents and my mother decided to make the trip.  I was sincerely grateful that they chose to come.  I was actually surprised that my mother, not of LDS faith, decided to come…more on that later.

The process leading to Baptism for my daughter was an interesting one for me.  I felt the responsibility of helping her come to the decision (or I suppose it’s an affirmation for an 8 year old most of the time) of Baptism.  I tried my best to help her understand what it meant and the importance.  With her attention span (which is less than mine :-)) it was difficult at times.  Despite the fact that she had been given lessons in Primary about Baptism and our efforts to specifically have family nights centered around the theme, she still got frustrated feeling like she didn’t know the answers to really what the purpose was.  The week before her interview with the Bishop I got much more serious about it (and perhaps too stern at times!) in my discussions with her and we talked about what Baptism meant each moment I had with her.  I tried not to coax her into any answers but rather wanted her to recall the things I already know she had learned.  Eventually she finally felt comfortable in her confidence of the meaning.

We met with the Bishop (who is a new Bishop) and she was VERY concerned about the process.  You wouldn’t think she’s shy if you saw her in her own setting, but around adults she is very shy and apprehensive.  The Bishop was very kind and asked her the same things we had been discussing more earnestly the past week.  She promptly answered all his questions to his satisfaction and he was pleased that she would be Baptized.

My wife had struggled to find just the “right” dress for her (our daughter is pretty picky about clothing).  Eventually a week before we found one that she was happy about…at a bridal shop (hint to those looking for the perfect white dress in a season where it is impossible to find them!).  Our daughter picked it out and declared it to be the one.  And of course, she looks beautiful in it.

My mother was in town for the occasion but I felt that she had forgotten about the actual event and instead was just coming to hang out with the kids.  I have to admit I was a little disappointed in what I felt was unpreparedness for this important event for my daughter and our family.  On the other hand I could tell my mother just wasn’t in tune with the importance.  I’ve not had conversations with my mom about spiritual stuff in a long time and I’m guessing she’s not really attending church or have a strong faith in God anymore…just a hunch.  Another struggle we had the entire weekend was that my mother uses “Oh my God” as slang in almost every sentence.  It’s not as striking as hearing the F-word every 3rd word, but when you have changed your belief about things of the spirit, you notice these things more.  It also was extremely hard to see my daughter try to process it as she heard it…after all we’ve told her that is not appropriate to use Heavenly Father’s name like that when we talk.  A few times I tried to correct her, leaning over and whispering “gosh Mom, say ‘gosh’” but it didn’t stick.  A little part of me felt she didn’t like to be corrected and was just going to do whatever she wanted.  Regardless I didn’t feel like she was making an effort to understand, let alone correct.

The day of Baptism came and my daughter saw the font in a different light as she’d be the one in it this time.  Her mother helped her get dressed in the outfit as I went to the men’s room to squeeze into my jump suit (yeah, my girth being disproportionate to my height makes fitting into things like that ‘interesting’).  We would be the first of 3 being Baptized this day, which made my daughter happy.  Her grandmother (my mother-in-law) gave the opening talk on Baptism and it was great and age-appropriate.  We then went into the waters with my father-in-law and our Bishop serving as witnesses.  I had rehearsed the exact ordinance in my mind a lot of times and was sure I’d screw it up.  But I didn’t.  Everything went fine and we retreated to change into our clothes.  When I came out of the bathroom I saw my daughter in her white dress with a smile on her face.  She was absolutely beautiful and innocent.  I pondered for only a second if she comprehended the importance of the ordinance that just occurred.

We concluded with the Confirmation of the Holy Ghost, accompanied by my home teacher and one of the Elders who we’ve come to enjoy his company in visits to our home.  It was a great day.  My daughter got a journal to record her thoughts for the day (an awesome gift) among other things like her new personalized scriptures.  I will indeed need to record more personal thoughts in my journal this evening.

As I walked into the font, I couldn’t help but flash back almost exactly 15 years ago when I was in the same outfit, yet on the receiving end.  A man of 21 having made what appeared to be such an odd decision to my family and friends, I walked into the font and made the decision to be baptized.  Now 15 years later I am able to do the same for my family and ensure they have the same opportunity to grow a faith in the Gospel that I have come to know.

Why do you journal?

I recently had a thought about journaling.  As a convert, this concept of journaling was new as it was introduced to me during discussions and indoctrination of the Mormon culture.  Of course, everyone knows about a diary.  So to me, I suppose I thought it was the same…sort of.

The more I think about journaling, the more I’m curious.  The concept of a diary to me has always been one of secrecy.  Heck, the fact that most diaries are sold with little locks tells me so, right?  I never kept one, but I’d always imagined those who did never intended for them to serve as lexicons for their life.  I always imagined they were the most personal of thoughts, written down as perhaps part of some therapeutic expression. 

As I started journaling (I suck at it mind you) I was writing in the concept that I’d imagine I *was* writing a lexicon of my life for future generations.  After all, in the Church we always hear about people reading from journals in talks, referring to historical moments, etc.  But have you ever heard someone read a journal entry that contained a deep secret of their life, or perhaps thoughts about their best friends that they never expressed (that were negative)?  I haven’t.  But why not?  If we write in journals with the knowledge that they may be read by future generations, wouldn’t we hear some of these things?  Surely even the Prophet had bad days and made note of them…angry with parents or friends, or girlfriends he thought was stinky? :-)

For me more lately my written journal has, in fact, been a therapeutic expression of things that have gotten me down.  Reflecting on it recently it reads as a book of sad and angry thoughts, writing when I’m bummed out about life, work, or other crap that frustrates me.  What causes me to be inspired to write the bad times, but not the good?  And what of these sad/bad thoughts?  Do I want my adult children/grand-children of the future to read them?  If not, what then is their purpose?  If you go through troubling times in your life whether they be personal, with other family/friends, etc. – and you journal them – are they things you’d want your future generations to read?  What would/could the future impact be on thoughts of you?  on thoughts of those you wrote about?

What about you?  Do you journal for purely yourself or for future generations?  And do you hold back those most personal, emotional moments in fear of future interpretation?

Deep Thoughts…

Maybe not by Jack Handey, but I had one today…

If your spouse wrote a journal of you you treat them…what would it say?