My Easter Sunday was quite one of the loveliest I have ever spent. (I think I’ve watched Pride and Prejudice too many times. Sorry, I’ll drop back into the American styling of the English language.) Anyway, all that aside, on Easter Sunday I was privileged to be in Waxahachie, Texas for the baptism of my beloved niece, Rebecca Case. I was so proud of her for fighting everything that stood in her way so that she could enter the waters of baptism on that very special day.
Rebecca is really a most remarkable young woman. Her mother is violently anti-Mormon and has fought every day of her children’s lives to keep them from the thing which would grant them the greatest joy, the strongest compass and the most magnificent of rewards. Waxahachie, located deep within the Bible Belt, is not overrun with Latter-day Saints, therefore, my nieces and nephew’s friends were not members of the church and their mother was constantly battering at them with a barrage of lies about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Two years ago my niece started to see through the lies and began asking questions.
I had never been to a baptism held on a Sunday – but somehow, Rebecca being baptized on Easter Sunday was one of the most special things I could ever have hoped for her. I spoke on our baptismal covenants, my sister-in-law, Tara, spoke about the Gift of the Holy Ghost – and when my brother, Cash, lifted his daughter out of the waters of baptism, the love which shone from his face was almost blinding. My heart was literally filled to overflowing for the love of my family.
As Christ arose from the tomb in all His glorious resurrection, so too, did my sweet niece, arise from the waters of baptism, new and surrounded in the cleanliness of her spirit. I’ve never been prouder my dear, Rebecca.