Fruit

One of the things that I absolutely love about my church is that we spend time every week praying for the lost. It's something that I look forward to on the way to church every Sunday. There is something about intentionally praying for the lost in the middle of the service that both glorifies God and edifies the Body. It's good, sweet, real, and honest.

This morning was the first time that Meg and I got to witness baptism in our church since we joined. For some odd reason, the city of Pearland didn't build a baptistery when they built their city hall buildings (which we currently meet in) so we have a "baptistery on wheels" that we use. Our pastor (Grady) meets with people that are requesting baptism well in advance to ensure that they truly have the best understanding that they can of their sinful nature, which earns them death and eternal punishment in hell, the need to be saved from their sinful nature and hell, that they have repented of their sin, that they have accepted the death of Jesus Christ on the cross as a substitute for their sinful nature, and believe that three days later He rose from the grave and beat death.

Grady introduces each person before they are baptized and tells the congregation a little bit about their story and the process they went through to ensure that they had an understanding of the gospel. This morning we got to hear one of the sweetest stories I've heard yet. I think she is 8 years old. Grady didn't really have to talk to her much to know that she knew what was going on. This is what the girl told Grady...

"I went to church one morning with my parents. When we got to the part where the church prays for the lost, I realized something. After church I looked at my dad and said, "Dad, I realized this morning when yall were praying for the lost, yall were praying for me. I am lost......"

-Matthew 19:13-15