reflections

So Wednesday, July 11th, I celebrated my 31st year as a Catholic. I was raised Quaker, so I was never baptized until a Pentecostal woman baptized me in her bathtub in about 1972 after an attempt to peddle my songs in NYC from where I left with a cult, The Children of God, and went to her house in Belmar, New Jersey. She believed in total emersion and I insisted on being totally naked. When she submerged me I did not care if I ever came up. I felt the water going down my nose. I was relaxed. She lifted my head and said that she had expected that to happen.
I had just returned from a hitchhiking trip from her house to the headquarters of the Children of God in New york State somewhere (I never made it.). They had basically kicked me out of Sister Joan's house because I had somehow separated myself from the group. I had got into a Scripture quoting struggle with one of the young leaders with my eyes closed before I got out of bed. I had shaken physically as I sat at a table and the words, 'Behold, I stand at the door and knock.' came out of my mouth. No way I could shake like that, but to them it was all a sham. And I had wound up in Sister Joan's bedroom, protected by her from the angry 'elders' who wanted me gone and agreed to letting me hitchhike to their headquarters.
Anyway, I traveled many miles in many different cars. It was like I was in the middle of a battle between God and Satan. When I got near to those headquarters I was moved to reverse my direction. I stopped and decided to return to Sister Joan's house. Somehow I made it back and when I returned the Children of God were gone. They'd been kicked out by Sister Joan's renegade son, Jack.
When I was accepted into the Episcopal Church in about 1974--after a time of living outside of wedlock with a woman who was a Bhahi (sp)--I was accepted without baptizm. My previous baptism in Sister Joan's bathtub was accepted as valid, but when I was ready to enter in Catholic Church in July 11, 1976 I was baptized conditionally by Father Hatala. My confession a week later only had to go from the time of my baptism, but I wanted to confess everything. I had no secrets from God and the priest was God's representative. I needed to confess before a man given authority by God. I needed ablution. God forgave me. Now my work as a Catholic began.
Years mean nothing, so much can and did happen in minutes, in days after years, but journey within the Church began with my baptism. Thanks be to God. Deo Gratias.