Our Sprout got sprinkled on Sunday morning at church. She was THAT CHILD who squirmed and squeaked and spoke her mind the entire time we were on stage.

A good reminder that she is in need of the cleansing blood of Christ.

It is such a real thing. In every moment of every day, I NEED the blood of Christ. For the strength to attempt to exhibit the fruits of the spirit to my family. For the power to make tough decisions. For the perspective to know that my approval is not based on others’ opinion of me. For the reminder that my own efforts are worthless in and of themselves, and for the grace that allows me to fail over and over.

And yet. how. hard. is. this. to. remember. To be real. More real than the orange juice I am drinking right now. It is so much easier to fall back on my own justifications, ala ‘I’m doing a pretty good job.’ And then my need of His blood is exposed all over again.

Praying that our Sprout would understand this early, and that it would be part of who she is. This is the blessing that FCL shared in front of the church Sunday morning, written for her.

Our prayer is that you will be blessed with wisdom to discern good from evil, so that you will taste and see that the Lord is good. We pray you will grow in that wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and in favor with man. That you will not seek the approval of man or be conformed to the world, but instead let your adorning be the precious beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit. That you will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord – yet know that, even when you don’t, nothing can separate you from His love and that God is greater than your heart. We pray that you will share in the sufferings of Christ and count it all joy. That you will learn to be content. That you will run with endurance the race God sets before you, fighting the good fight of faith in the strength of His might. That you will never fear, save the Lord, and that you will know the voice and see the face of the Good Shepherd. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.

Oh, and there was a gown. Baptism is obviously not about the gown. But oh, this gown. Sewn by her grandmother. It requires a whole other post.

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