I’m a third-generation spiritual midwife. That’s my name for the job. I’m the one who goes backstage with those who have made the decision to be baptized and helps them get ready. My grandmother was the lady who did it when our church began in 1958. She made all the baptismal robes and made sure we didn’t lose track of them or the towels as we traveled to other area churches to use their baptistries until we had our own church building. She recruited my mother to help her and she took over after my grandmother died. When things started getting hard for Mom to do, she asked me to help her. It’s my favorite job in the church.
My dad was a doctor, a general practitioner, who delivered hundreds of babies back in the day when that’s what family doctors did. I loved hearing him talk about delivering babies! He never lost his amazement at the miracle of birth. That’s how I feel when I help someone as they are born again.
We recently had a lady in her 70’s who wanted to be baptized. She had been critically ill and almost died and she realized she wasn’t ready to meet Jesus face to face. She was wheelchair-bound and it took three of us to get her down into the water. You could see the relief on her face afterward. A brand new person in an old worn-out body! And last week there was a little 6-year-old who gave his life to Jesus. After he dried off he said, “I feel like a whole new boy!” And he was!
There’s no greater joy than seeing the miracle of rebirth up close and personal. Being able to calm their nerves and offer reassurance of God’s promise of forgiveness is such a privilege. Wrapping these new babes in Christ in a towel makes me feel like I’ve helped them get started. Most midwives probably never know what happens to the babies they help bring into this world. But me? I’m going to see mine in the next one!
Dianne