One Easter Since Baptism – A Redemption Story
“What I once believed didn’t matter… turned out it all truly matters.”
In this post, you will discover the redemptive story of a sinner – my story. A child who swallowed the deceitful lies of the world. A heart that once believed life didn’t matter – only to find it truly did. A year has passed since my baptism in 2024. Looking back on that day fills me with joy — not for what I did, but for what God has done in me. The time spent with God since, He has put many matters of faith on my heart. During my testimony, I was unable to say all I wanted to say, and I skipped things that needed to be said. You will find below a more thoughtful, refined version of my testimony. I hope and pray it encourages and maybe even transforms your heart.
A redemptive story would be remiss without an expression of thanks and prayer. A thanks to family, friends, and the church. The love and support shown to me through my journey is touching. You have forgiven my failures and cheered my triumphs. Through you, God has delivered grace upon grace and blessing upon blessing that has led me to this moment. This baptism moment is not something I take lightly. It is something I have been praying over for years. However, now that the day has arrived my prayers have found a new heading.
My hope and prayer for today is my story – which is God’s story – would serve two purposes. I pray my testimony would inspire a believer who has been contemplating baptism. I pray the Spirit would lead you to baptism – to share the story of God’s redemptive work in your life. Maybe you were baptized in infancy, had no real upbringing with Jesus, or were never baptized but still call yourself a follower of Christ. Hopefully, my testimony will stir a confidence in you to boldly proclaim the Gospel – through baptism and in your daily life.
I pray God would enter someone’s heart today – that the irresistible grace He offers would bring one person to believe and find comfort in Jesus, just as I have. If my testimony does nothing other than bring one person to repentance and belief in Christ, then to overcoming this testimonial fear is well with my soul. All glory to God. Amen!
Now my testimony is a long story. Like a roller coaster, my story contains many ups, downs, and unexpected twists and turns. As an infant, my parents had me baptized in a Methodist church located in Highspire. I enjoy telling my wife every time we drive by the old church on our way home from my sister-in-law’s, “that is where I got baptized” and “I used to attend church there!” I’m not sure why my family left that church—I believe the minister left, and many people followed. I was grateful for being baptized, and my parents found baptism important. However, little did I know my infant baptism would carry a heavy amount of stress like an anchor holding a boat against the current of the sea. The more I heard about the believer’s baptism, the heavier the anchor around my neck felt. The full weight came to bear when I began contemplating baptism as an adult and finally deciding to be baptized. The anchor had been pulled to the surface. The sun finally shined on the once dark baptism conversation that lurked in the depths of my soul.
The nerves came from a comment my mother made before heading to Liberty University, my third college since graduating high school! Her words were, “You better not go down there and get baptized.” Ouch, right? Upon further reflection and discussion with my mom, I came to realize her words came from a place of protection and deep love. In our baptism conversation, her concern was, “The choice of baptism would be forced upon me and not of my own doing.” I have become thankful for her conviction to warn me. Spiritually, it would have been inappropriate for me to be baptized at that time. My hope was not fully in Christ. By my own doing, I lacked a true body of believers to walk with me. I was a part of the body of Christ but not a specific body. I needed a church home – being a member of a specific body of believers to attest and say, “Yes, Matthew is a true believer in Christ”.
While I was baptized as an infant, I did not grow up in the church. My attendance to church was not even spotty at best – it was non-existent. One time, I attended church with a friend in sixth or seventh grade. The other times were for a couple of funerals. The years before I was a believer were dreadful. One of my favorite bands was Linkin Park and their hit song off the album Hybrid Theory was In The End. The lyrics go “in the end, it doesn’t even matter.” What a lyric for a 16-year-old to repeat in their heart over and over again. That’s how I lived my life. It was stained with sinful, rebellious behavior towards God. I truly believed, in the end, life didn’t even matter.
I believed in a god. This was a little “g” god. This god did not care much for humanity and certainly was not all-good and all-powerful. I definitely never thought much of a carpenter named Jesus. All he did was talk a lot. I had some events that caused me to struggle with the concept of an all-good, all-powerful God. I had a friend whose dad coached for me for many years. He actually helped me get better at the sport I loved, baseball. He was believer in Jesus and a believer in me. I have grown apart from that friend and all my high school teammates, but the impact of his dad’s words have lasted a lifetime. This coach impacted me beyond the baseball field.
One time in those rebellious years I attended church with that coach’s family. It was a great experience and I remember leaving quite happy. I didn’t understand why all the other kids were grumbling about waking early every Sunday. There was a live band, snacks, and a welcome bag with free mug. In my mind there was a free concert, free food, and free stuff. Awesome! Clearly I missed whatever message about Christ was taught that day but I did not miss the message in the parking lot. On our way back to the car my coach said, “Everyone should attend church. Even if you don’t believe.” That has always attached itself to my mind. I believe him saying that kept me open to the idea of the church and God. Later I would learn there was more to it than just church attendance.
A few years later that coach passed away unexpectedly of a heart attack. Never to see his daughter make a college basketball layup. Never to walk daughter down the aisle at her wedding. Never to see his son play college baseball and walk up to the plate for his first minor league at-bat. I thought this guy believed in what? Why? Look where it got him? No, I didn’t like God very much even if He offered me free stuff.
Two years later, that same friend and along with three teammates were involved in a drunk driving accident. They were struck head on by the drunk driver about two minutes form my house. Immaturely, I blamed myself for their accident. Rightfully so, I got in trouble that night. My poor behavior kept them from coming over for a team bonfire. Instead of coming to my house they found other things to do. Like pranking the girls’ softball team. I know you may think, “That’s not your fault”, but I did think it was my fault. I was a 17-year-old kid feeling the ripple effects of his sin. To me, I was just as at fault as the drunk driver. My ears still ring with a grieving mother’s words, while crying on the bathroom floor, embracing my mom saying,” I cannot do this again.” I remember seeing my other friend and eventual college roommate walking down the hill with tubes sticking out of his head. The tubes drained any build up blood from his skull and helped relieve pressure. I know it’s not my fault, but it sure felt like it. If anything, I believed God was punishing me.
Two years later, the death of a nine-year-old boy rocked the community of Hummelstown. I knew this boy well through coaching his older brother in Little League. This little boy was struck by a car while riding his skateboard in the high school parking lot. Nothing evil was happening; just an innocent girl making an innocent mistake that she would live with for the rest of her life. I struggled to believe God could be loving and good and powerful to let this suffering happen.
I attended the boy’s funeral a week later. At his funeral I could feel his dad’s pain as we embraced in a tear-filled hug. I could see the feeling of helplessness that permeated from the mother’s eyes. A mother would never dance with her son at his wedding. A father would never help him grow into a man. His brother had lost a little brother, a playing partner and a lifelong companion. Why? For what?
The family were believers and this boy’s funeral would be the first time I heard a bit about Jesus. During the funeral, the pastor noted the boy’s belief in Jesus and all the joy he brought to his Sunday school class. While words like this were comforting, it was still hard. The pastor did speak truth that immediately grabbed my attention. Now today, I would look back and disagree with many of the things said by the pastor, but I was still able to chew the meat and spit out the bone. The pastor made a reference to John 11. The verse that made my head pop up, grabbing my undivided attention was John 11:35, “Jesus wept.” Jesus at the tomb of his dear friend Lazarus could be found weeping. That’s when I first learned about Jesus’s compassion and that he believed death was not right and he wept with me. Jesus contained an empathetic human element that I could relate to. While this event first introduced me to Jesus, my stance and heart towards God did not change. To change my heart, God really had to get my attention. I compare it to when my kids get the hiccups. The trick is scaring the hiccups out of them. That seemed to be the only way God would get rid of my sinful hiccups.
A couple of years later, my hiccups would cease to exist. I met Francesca – my now-wife. I am thankful for Francesca, as God used her to play the most pivotal role in my salvation story to scare the hiccups out of me. She let me and God make my faith personal. She never asked me to church, never asked me become a believer, and never asked me to get baptized. But she has always pointed me to Christ in all my triumphs and failings.
We started dating through bad advice from her former youth leader. Luckily, the great youth leader, who actually counseled us before our marriage, gave Francesca bad advice. Francesca took a big risk. What was she thinking? I was a college dropout living in my parent’s basement. She was a firm believer with her act together. She was heading to college with a bright future ahead of her.
Early in our relationship, she asked if we could talk. In my mind I thought, “Oh boy she’s breaking up with me.” Honestly, there were many reasons throughout our relationship she should have broken up with me. Instead, that night Francesca shared her faith with me. She told me she has a relationship with God and how that is important to her. That did not bother me. I thought, you do you. Right? However, I did press her with questions, such as “Why do I needed to attend church or have a relationship with God?” There came a moment when I very pointedly asked her, “If I should die tomorrow go up to the pearly gates and knock on the door, what would God say to me?” She said, “God would say, ‘I don’t know you!’” What?! There’s no way that’s true. I didn’t agree, pressed no more, and left the conversation still in a relationship. I kept replaying the conversation over and over and over again. It was an annoying itch that no matter how hard I scratched, left no relief. It was the worst case of poison ivy. I decided answers were needed, to scratch the itch.
I mustered up the courage to attend a church service with her. Everyone should go to church, even if they don’t believe, right? To tell the truth, I was extremely nervous. I knew my heart and feared God may strike me down with a bolt of lightning. Worse, what if I had bad gas and embarrassed myself? The fear of death and embarrassment overwhelmed my soul and that is exactly where God struck first. The service changed my life. Pastor Kevin Dixon preached that Sunday morning. The passage was Matthew 25:1-13, The Parable of the 10 Virgins.
25 Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. 2 Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3 For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, 4 but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. 5 As the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and slept. 6 But at midnight there was a cry, Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him. 7 Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. 8 And the foolish said to the wise, Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out. 9 But the wise answered, saying, Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves. 10 And while they were going to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut. 11 Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, Lord, lord, open to us. 12 But he answered, Truly, I say to you, I do not know you. 13 Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.
There it is was, verses 11 and 12 staring me right in the face! “Lord Lord open up to us.” He answered, “Truly I say to you, I do not know you.” I was shocked and my hiccups were gone. A level of fear came over me like I never felt before. Not only was I afraid, God had embarrassed me. Had I been lied to my entire life? I thought none of this mattered in the end? How does God not know me? Why do I feel so embarrassed? Finally my eyes were opened. My hard exterior hid a soft, gooey inside like a poached egg. It was not that God did not know me but I did not know him. The Bridegroom knew where to go to find the ten virgins. All they needed to do was be ready. I did not have a relationship with him. I wasn’t ready for Jesus.
My fear of God has now grown to be a healthy fear. A reverence for the Creator of the Universe. I have a healthy fear of my own father because I have a relationship with him. A healthy respect for fear is a good thing. My life was lived without fear and look where it got me. Hebrews 4:12 tell us, “For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any double edged sword, piercing even to the point of dividing soul from spirit, and joints from marrow; it is able to judge the desires and thoughts of the heart.” God embarrassed my sinful soul that Sunday morning. Some people might say it was a coincidence, hearing that verse was a random event. I believe it was God drawing back his bow and shooting me directly in the heart.
This belief in Jesus has by no means made me perfect. In my sinful state I am no better than the man struggling with alcohol or the woman struggling with infidelity. As you will see, I still struggle with my sin in a fallen world. God has used my lack of faith, to teach me hard lessons. The two lessons God has chosen for me to share with you are He is sovereign and I am completely helpless.
God’s lesson on sovereignty was on full display during a traumatic event. Years ago, while playing a round of golf, my dad suffered a heart attack. We were walking from green four to the hole five tee box. This is when he started complaining about chest pain. It was not just pain but a heart attack. On my walk back to the parking from the hole furthest from the clubhouse, I left my dad there in his pain. He made me “fyi”, refusing to let me call the clubhouse for a golf cart or an ambulance. I drove the truck around the course to a back road where he proceed to scale the picket fence and pull himself up into his truck. To this day I struggle to get the noise of his painful groans out of my ears. The visual of him grabbing his chest is more than just a faint memory. The doctors told him how lucky he was to be alive.
I didn’t understand why God would allow pain to happen. I am a believer now, God! Shouldn’t you just give me what I want – a safe life?! I have learned God’s sovereignty is not always easy. Jesus said in Matthew 16: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Following Jesus and following God’s will is hard. Too often we try to be rowers in a rowboat struggling against the tide, when really we should strive to be sailboats, letting the wind and current of the Spirit guide us on the seas of life. God had plans I did not fully understand. Proverbs 19:21 says, “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” God had another plan for my father. My father did not believe there was a God. Now he believes, he asks co-workers if he can pray for them, he has even stated that Jesus is God! Now, what exactly those words mean to him? That I do not know. What I do know is God’s plans for are far better than my own! I pray He would continue to call my dad to himself. As he continues to do with me.
God continued to teach me through helplessness. The birth of my firstborn son Hudson was supposed to be a joyful time of celebration, pictures, and ear-to-ear smiles. Hudson should have taken a huge first breath and cried. His first wail would be to let us and the world know he had arrived. The cry would have been music to our ears, reassuring us that he was well. He didn’t cry at all, not even a little bit, he didn’t do skin to skin with his mom, we didn’t swaddle and hold him close. He suffered a collapsed lung. As he turned deep shades of purple, we could only watch as medical staff wheeled him away. Our first three nights with our new son were spent waking every two hours to make the long elevator journey to the NICU. It felt as if I was descending to the deep end of a pool with pressure pressing in all around me. We could only touch him through a box and hold his little fingers while trying to avoid the labyrinth of attached wires. These were our first three days of parenthood?! It was gut-wrenching.
I still remember calling my mother crying, because I did not know what to do. What could I do? I told my dad I took a wedding vow, I am to lay down my life for my wife, as Christ did for the church Ephesians 5:25. But that would do me no good. At some point my dad spoke comforting words of wisdom into my pain. He thought I was sacrificing myself. Francesca never knew how scared and distressed I really was. She thought I was supportive and strong through the entire process. My dad believed I was sacrificing my mental and emotional health for my family in a time of crisis. Our first days of parenthood fail in comparison to what some have gone through. Some families had been in the NCIU for months. Maybe some of you can relate. Maybe you never got to hold your child before they were even a year old or worse, they passed away before you could. I don’t pretend to completely understand everyone’s pain. Although, I do have a taste and empathize how helpless you may have or may still feel.
During our hospital stay, Pastor Jason spoke to me on the phone, yet all I could think about was Matthew 19:14 where Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” Many people, myself included, interpret this verse to mean, “Aw, look how much Jesus loves innocence of children. Just be more innocent like a child and then you can come to Jesus.” This interpretation misses the point. Jesus is not telling us we need to be like innocent children. He is showing us how helpless we are before God – like a newborn baby who cannot feed, change, and sustain ourselves. In our sinful state we are as helpless as a newborn baby who cannot even muster the strength to take his or her first breath.
I have many stories that could fill more pages but this must do for now. Our stories have power. Words have power. My stories, along with the preaching, teaching and hearing of others’ stories, have led me to this moment. Recently, Benjamin spoke about the death of Christian martyrs and how the Apostle Peter was crucified upside down. How Polycarp was burnt at the stake for his faith. How believers all over the world are still being killed for proclaiming faith in Jesus. It has convicted me! The Lord has spoken to me. How can I sit in a pew every Sunday, not stand on a stage, in front of family and friends to proclaim my faith is Jesus? Before today my answer would have been, because I am afraid. I am afraid of saying the wrong things, ruining a relationship, people thinking I am a hypocrite or maybe people will just think I am weird. Even after today I would say all of those things will still be true. At least, they will be true until the Lord calls me home or returns to make them untrue. However, today I am no longer afraid. Today I stand before you a believer in Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. The Holy Spirit has compelled me to proclaim my faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
That Jesus is who he says he is
That Jesus is the “Great I Am”.
That the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are one.
That Jesus is fully God and Fully Man.
That he can calm the winds and waves of this world as well as the storms in my life.
He was born of a virgin.
Lived a sinless life
Loved me so much that he drank the cup of wrath that was meant for me and was nailed to and died on the cross as a substitution for my sins.
He spent 3 days separated from body and on the 3rd day triumphantly raised from the dead.
Where people saw him, touched him and watched as he ascended to heaven.
Now he is seated at the right hand of the father, continually interceding on my behalf.
I believe that one day he will return, giving me a glorious, perfect, resurrected body and upon his return every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.
With full confidence I can say, Jesus is the everlasting living hope that anchors my soul, now, and for eternity.
Lit Lamp For The Soul 
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