Re-baptized

I say “re-baptized” because like many people I was baptized when I was a young person-- at age fourteen, to be exact. I was sincere enough when I was baptized by full immersion at First Baptist Church in Pella, Iowa in 1968, just a few days after Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed. It was not a game, or a rite of passage just to go through. I did not do it because my other friends were doing it. I knew what it was about, and I took it reasonably serious, which is to say, not serious enough.

In the decades after, however, I drifted from the Lord, falling into a loose deism filled with many doubts. I believed there was a God, but he was a distant God, and Jesus was just a good man made into a legend by his over-zealous disciples. I did not return to Christ until 2006, at age 52, two years before Kelsey was killed. However, even then I was more of an intellectual Christian. I believed Jesus was, indeed, the Christ, but I still did not fully understand that He wanted a personal relationship, not a part-time associate.

Then Kelsey was killed, and I had to decide whether I still trusted God. He had let Kelsey be crushed by a dump truck. To be honest, at first I did not know whether I trusted the Lord. How did the taking of Kelsey, who was such a wonderful witness for Christ, fit into His plan? What could be the purpose of that?

I spoke at length with Steve McMeans, the pastor of Indiana Avenue Baptist Church, where Kelsey had attended. While he answered many questions, I still did not know whether I could trust God again.

One of Kelsey’s favorite verses was Proverbs 3:5. About a month before she was killed, she stenciled on her bedroom wall in beautiful letters the opening phrase of that verse: Trust in the Lord with all your heart…” However, in the weeks after her death, it was the rest of that verse that came to capture to me: “…and do not lean on your own understanding.”

That phrase rolled over in mind time and time again. And as I reflected upon it, I decided that while I still had not resolved all my doubts about whether I could trust God again, I did decide that I would seek the answer, and part of that process would be to re-affirm my commitment: I would be re-baptized.

I spoke with Reverend McMeans about this, as well as expressing my many doubts, and he suggested that in light of my doubts, “maybe we should not call it re-baptism, but just baptism.” I chuckled, but saw his point.

So for me, my baptism in November, 2008, represented that I would not give up. That I would seek out God’s wisdom and love; that I would open my mind and my heart to His invasion.

And invade He did.

Community

Losing a child is as bad as it gets. There’s nothing worse. And yet we count our blessings.

Two things got us through. One was our faith. Tested for sure, but it grew under the strain, then flowered under His love.

The other thing that rescued us was the support of community. From the beginning the Lubbock-Cooper community, as well as friends from Meadow, Garden City and other places picked us up. Day after day. All through that horrible first year and still yet today. It’s amazing. It’s heart-warming. It’s inspiring.

There were so many people there for us: Pat and Jo Henderson, the Edwards, the Vestal’s, the Howells, Kelsey’s classmates. So many people.

Flowers and cards. Letters, essays, poems and posters. Renderings of photographs. Quilts. The car window decal. Tattoos. Alexandra Nanny’s rock. Amanda Kitten’s essay. Kandice Bowie’s poem. Drawings from a mystery artist. Letters from a person in jail. The first small cross at the accident site. The bigger one later. The football flag. The football jersey. Kelsey’s retired jersey—worn by Kayla one more time. The flag from Governor Perry. Special songs at band concerts. The memorial garden-- a labor of love by dozens and dozens of people.

On and on. Every day. For a year Tracy Henson sent us a card every week.

The outpouring was so great and so wonderful that at times it almost swamped us.

As tough as it was, if we had not been people of faith, and if we had not been in the community we were, we know that it would have been that much tougher.

So yes, we count our blessings.

Denial

Kelsey was gone.

Gone.

I had seen the crumpled car. The 40,000 pound dump truck silently looming over it. We had touched her lifeless body in the funeral home. That’s as real as it gets. As bad as it gets.

Yet, a part of me would not accept it. Could not believe it. Was this some kind of bad dream? Some nightmare that just kept rolling on? How was this possible? When she had so much to live for. When she could be such a wonderful witness for Christ.

Waves of agony. Waves of denial. Battering us like ocean waves. First from one direction. Then the other. Relentless. Threatening to swamp us.

Then family started arriving. First my sister. Then two brothers. Each arrival bringing a new siege of grief, a new round of shock. Hanging on to them. Pouring out our anguish. Soaking up theirs.

The house was filled with people. All meant well. All tried to support, but it was so surreal. So unreal that it was numbing.

Dire days. Days of shock. And yet, days of piercing agony.

The worst days of our lives. No parent should ever have to go through this.

National Campaign

WHY WE WROTE THE BOOK

How does one make sense of losing a child? A child with a deep and abiding love of our Lord.

For us, there really was only one answer. We turned to God. Then many months later, as part of that process, we turned to others, hoping to help those who had also lost a child. Hoping to spread God's loving balm on their pain. So our initial focus was on helping other parents who had also lost a child. This is why we started writing the book.

However, our time, we realized that there were other kinds of tragedies that caused one to doubt God. So our focus expanded to include those people.

Then finally, I realized that our story might help others who are searching for God. In chapter three, I described how I spent decades in doubt. I did not become a Christian until 2006, two years before Kelsey was killed. I was 52. I hope that my story of searching can help others who are doing the same.

So, I guess, you could say that our book is an attempt to help make sense out of some thing that makes no sense at all. Kelsey's favorite verse was proverbs 3:5, which ends with "do not lean on your own understanding." We turned to the love of the Lord, and leaned on Him.