Sunday Morning Contemplation

Therefore…I am Baptized by Polar Plunge

We often times make outlandish attempts to bring or add purpose to the actions that we take. When in fact, the stuff we do is nothing more than frivolous activity when one finally understands that our actions are decisions waiting on an outcome. A consequence.

As I gazed out the window wondering what type of shock my body would endure after plunging in a freezing body of water, I wondered if I would weaken my immune system consequently leaving me susceptible to sickness e.g. a cold or even worse pneumonia. I wondered and wondered - then I came to my final moment of analysis and reflection…

I concluded that my Polar Plunge is my way of cleansing my spirit…my soul.

In that final breathtaking moment –literally- before I stepped out the Side Door and entered the pool area I was reminded of the many times that I have used a broom to sweep my imitation but beautiful hardwood floors. Each and every time I sweep I think of all the pain, heartbreak, and mess I have allowed to enter my Place of Solitude. So, now for the past two years every AM and PM, I have swept the junk of my day and night right on out of My Peace, my home. Then I make certain that all the particles of my corrupt ways are far from my door so that the Sins of our Fathers are not re-treaded by a visitor or a guest that I give the sacred opportunity to enter My Space…My Museum.

I, therefore, Sweep Around My Door…

The side door that is attached to the side room was reminiscent of the side door and room that I waited in prior to my first baptism…Union Baptist Church on Mary James Avenue – Thomasville, North Carolina...Reverend Fulp…The memories. The side room was the waiting area where we waited for the church nurse to come collect us. The side room was adjacent to the pulpit. That one place that was- way back when -respected and honored. The side room was a hazy afterthought once I was pugnaciously submerged underwater. I was a kid…afraid of not breathing for more than ten seconds. Afraid of drowning…terrified of death.

Therefore, in fear of not coming up or being pulled up the expectation of being a new babe in Christ intensified. The responsibility of being like Jesus was distressing. That unattainable obligation was and still remains to be a huge cross to carry for all humans that define themselves as Christian.

But, on this day – January 3, 2012 – I decided not to be or become a Christian again. My step forward –out of my self-made tomb- was a reaffirmation of newly attained Freedom. A Freedom that I liken to the first time I walked down the narrow isle after Reverend Hunt’s altar call, “Come thee who would like to turn their life over to Christ”…(St. John’s AME Zion Church, August 1993). On that day I became a new babe…I was then able to guiltlessly partake in the sacramental feast,

I wanted the icy water to exhilarate me…invigorate me…ultimately SHOCK me. And, it did. I felt afresh. The entire day was one of constant thought, pleasing conversation, and thankfulness for the regulars (my friends, family, and Jesse Da Dog).

Yes, I have attached…tagged my Polar Plunge with meaning. I made it of significance…when in fact it was just an act. An action that has consequence:

I must live a life worthy of my Tuesday Morning baptism. A life that should be lived better than the life I have lived since reciting the Apostle’s Creed for the first time.