Pilot of my life

The end of July our 8 year old daughter Alivia asked, "Mom, can I get baptized?"

My heart of course just wanted to explode with joy at the thought of her making this public statement of her commitment and love for Jesus at such a young age, but I wanted to make sure she knew the meaning of being baptized.


"Do you know what it means when you are baptized?" I asked her.

"Yes, it means that I want to live my life for Christ and that when I drown my sins in that water tub-thingy, I'm a new creature. And God will help me live my life for Him. "


"You know Jesus was baptized too Alivia. Do you know by who?"

"Yes, John the Baptist.
MOM.
I really want to get baptized, can I?
Please?"

Satisfied and surpised with her knowledge of what she was about to do I said,
"Yes, honey, I'll call the church and let them know. I'm so happy for you Liv."


"Thanks Mom, I'm soooooo excited!"




So, on Sunday August 9th...


Alivia E'Lise was asked by Pastor Solo to tell her church family what she had told him her reason was for wanting to get baptized.

"I want to get baptized because I want God to be the Pilot of my life.

I don't want to pilot my life anymore, I want GOD to pilot my life."

I had overheard her on the phone Saturday morning tell Pastor Solo this and when she hung up, I asked her, "Liv, where did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" she asked.

"That you want God to pilot your life and be the Pilot of your life?"
She looked at me and said, "Oh, no where Mom, I made it up.
I do...I want God to be the Pilot of my life."

Being prayed over.

Making her stand for Jesus public and yet so private...

Last night Alivia and I watched this video of Lysa TerKeurst's daughter Hope showing her recent missions trip in Ethiopia. A trip this young teenager begged her parents to let her go on. (Please take the time to read these posts)


I looked at Alivia when she said a sympathetic "Oh" at a picture of a crying baby and there were tears streaming down her face. I asked her why she was crying and she shrugged her shoulders and just leaned on me. Then she said, "It just makes me sad that we have so much and they don't. Can we watch it again?"
So we did and more tears fell down her precious brown face.

We prayed together and off to bed she went. It was way past her bedtime and so I really wanted her to go to sleep. She came out in the living room again, but before I could yell at her to go back to bed she asked,

"Mom, how old do you have to be to go on a missions trip?"
A little taken back I said, "I'm not sure, but older."
"Like ten-ish?"
I laughed and said, "No, older than that."
"Well, how old is Lysa's daughter?"
"I'm not sure, but I think she might be 16."

She then pointed at me and said, "That's. When I'm going."

And off to bed she went.

As I cried.

Thank you sweet Jesus for the heart this child has for You.

May it never stray, but instead remain in rhythm with only You.

And whatever seeds You used Hope TerKeurst to plant inside the heart of my little girl

may they bloom in Your timing.

~Many Blessings~