Baptism and the Gift of the Holy Spirit

I did not think I would have the strength to write today, since it is our original Estimated Due Date. Whenever someone asked when I was due, "May 28th," was the response. However, I found some inspiration. On this day she was supposed to be born, I will tell you the story of when she was born to Christ and blessed with the Holy Spirit.

Following the C-section, I was rolled out of the OR with my doctor at my side. She was still crying and told me that as soon as I was more alert and Rosie was cleaned up, she would bring my daughter in to see me. I told her I did not want a single drop of pain medicine until after seeing her. My family had been trying to get a hold of our priest at St. Pius, or the priest that married us, an old family friend, to Baptize Rosie when she came into the world. However, we could not get through to anyone at St. Pius, and our family friend was in the Hospital down the road with Bronchitis. So the hospital found us an amazing Catholic chaplain to help with the ceremony of Baptizing our silent daughter.

I cannot remember a lot about the following 12 hours, but the parts I do are comforting to me, and I will hold close to my heart forever. One of the hospital's chaplains had Rosie dressed in a beautiful dress, booties, and and adorable bonnet. AS soon as she handed Rosie to me, I marveled at how perfect she was. She was absolutely beautiful, and looked as if she was just sleeping. I took off her bonnet to see her blondish hair, I took off her booties to touch, count and admire her tiny toes. I held her fingers and was mesmerized by the fact they were big for her body, just like mine. Her lips were the perfect shade of rose red, and I gazed at her peacfully shut eyes, expecting them to open at any moment and stare lovingly into mine. The world around me disappeared. Although there were easily 20 family members and friends in that hospital room, the only two I could see were Foster and Rosie.

The Catholic priest had brought a beautiful shell to baptize her with. Foster had asked if he could do the honors of pouring the water over her head and blessing her. The priest opened up the private ceremony with a beautiful prayer, and Foster proceded to trickle water over her tiny head while through tears saying "I Baptize you, Rosalynn Patricia Foster, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." It was such a beautiful and intimate moment to share with so many people who love and care for us.

This past Sunday was the Pentecost. For those of you who are not familiar, it is the day that God sent down the Holy Spirit to all the disciples, and they were able to spread the word of God in any language, to all the nations. Our Deacon's sermon last Sunday really hit close to Foster's and my heart. He talked about the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives. I requested a copy of the sermon so I can quote one part that really stuck out to me:

"Now, Jesus' gift of peace does not promise ease or comfort. In fact, many of the disciples had very difficult roads ahead of them in the following years. And, like them, for many people, it does seem that adversity comes in waves. Sometimes it's not one thing, but one thing after another. Or sometimes life can throw up challenges and heartaches that no one else can recognize but the persons experiencing them. And it can feel that we are left alone to cope, while the world goes about its business, oblivious.

But when the Risen Jesus showed his friends his wounds, he not only assured them of his presence, he revealed to them what his presence would mean for them, and for us. It means that he does not leave us to bear hardship alone, but stays to bear it with us through the Holy Spirit. Not just as someone who can intellectualize or imagine what we are going through, but as someone who can understand it, because he suffered too. He came, not to put and end to suffering, at least not right away, but to embrace suffering so that he could help us bear it."

We listened to this sermon, and felt as if it was written just for us. It seems as if the Lord's Day has also become a day that He regularly let's Foster and I know He is with us through all of this.

As I sat in that hospital bed with my husband at my side, my daughter in my arms, and completely surrounded by people who loved us, it felt as if Jesus was standing amongst the crowd, crying with us. Surely the presence of the Lord was in that room!