A Breakfast Potluck
Joseph Anderson Donetti peered out the back door window. “I hope they won’t be late!” he exclaimed.
“If you’re so hungry, have a glass of orange juice,” G.M. recommended.
“I’m not really that hungry,” Joseph admitted with a little grin. “I guess I’m just excited.” He looked over at Mom, rocking quietly in the old chair by the windows. “You’re going to love my new friends,” he said. “I’m really glad you’re here. Did I tell you I’m really glad you’re here? I missed you!”
Mom and G.M. both laughed out loud. “Joseph,” G.M. said, “you talk more and more like Mac every day. When you first arrived, you were sort of a quiet kid. I guess it just goes to show that people do become like the company they keep.”
Joseph’s mouth hung open. “I talk like Mac? I don’t talk as much as Mac! I couldn’t talk as much as Mac. I never met anyone who talked as much as Mac!”
G.M. looked at Mom. Her eyes twinkled. “Wait until you meet Mac,” she said.
Joseph looked out the back door window again. “Pastor Chuck’s here,” he announced. Joseph opened the door.
Pastor Chuck wiped his feet on the mat and handed a plate to Joseph. “Kelly’s sorry she couldn’t come with me,” he said. [Kelly is Pastor Chuck’s wife.] “She said she’s never been to a potluck breakfast before. But she did send along the cinnamon rolls you requested.”
“Pastor Chuck, this is my mom,” Joseph said proudly. “Mom, this is Pastor Chuck who I told you about.”
Mom stood up and shook hands with Pastor Chuck. “I’m very glad to meet you,” she said.
“I’m glad to meet you, too, Mrs. Donetti.” Pastor Chuck smiled. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know your son this summer. He’s a very special boy.”
“Well, I think so,” Mom said. “I certainly wouldn’t trade him for any other boy.”
There was a thud on the back porch.
“Mac’s here,” G.M. said. “Come on in,” she called.
“I can’t open the door,” Mac shouted. “I need help.”
Joseph opened the door, and Mac stepped into the kitchen. She was wearing orange, elbow-length oven mitts and carrying a big, steaming panful of scrambled eggs.
G.M. opened the oven. “Stick them in here,” she instructed. “They’ll stay warm until everyone gets here.”
Two car doors banged. Trevor and Hannah had arrived.
There was a lot of commotion for the next few minutes. Hannah and Trevor put their food on the counter, and Joseph introduced everybody to his mother. Finally everyone found a seat at the kitchen table.
“Pastor Chuck, would you like to ask God’s blessing on our breakfast?” G.M. said.
“Dear Father in heaven,” Pastor Chuck began, “thank You for this delicious food that You have provided. Thank You for Joseph’s mother’s safe trip to Oregon. And thank You for G.M.’s hospitality. Amen.”
G.M. chuckled. She spread her napkin on her lap. “I don’t mind being hospitable if I don’t have to cook,” she said. “Setting the table I can do. But that’s about my limit. Joseph even made the orange juice.”
Everyone dug in.
“Well, since we’re here to talk about the baptism, we’d better get started,” Pastor Chuck said. He licked some cinnamon roll frosting off his thumb. “Have you all decided whether you would prefer to be baptized in the church or in the river?”
“In the river!” Joseph, and Hannah, and Trevor answered in unison.
“Good,” Pastor Chuck said. “Now you realize that the river is going to be cold, even though it’s summer, don’t you? You’ll need to wear clothes that can get wet, including your shoes. And you’ll all need to bring at least a couple of towels and a set of dry clothes.”
“How long are you going to hold us under the water?” Joseph asked nervously. “I never saw anyone get baptized before.”
“Just for a moment,” Pastor Chuck answered. “You will stand beside me in the river. When I’m ready to baptize you, I’ll put one hand kind of between your shoulders at the base of your neck. You can bring a washcloth and hold it over your nose and eyes if you want to. Then you keep your body very stiff like a board, take a good breath, and I’ll lower you down into the water and raise you right back up again. It only takes a minute.”
“It’s really not scary at all,” Mac put in. “I think it’s so neat to be baptized in a river just like Jesus was,” she said. “I thought about that when I was baptized last year. I thought about Jesus being baptized and God’s voice from heaven saying, ‘This is My Son and I love Him. I am very pleased with Him.’ I was sort of hoping that would happen to me, too,” she added softly. “You know, God saying out loud, ‘This is my daughter and I love her. I am very pleased with her.’ I mean I knew it wouldn’t really happen that way, but it would have been really, really awesome!”
“God can’t do that today,” Trevor said. “This isn’t Bible times, and we’re just ordinary people.”
“Don’t ever say God can’t do something,” Pastor Chuck cautioned. “God can do whatever He wants to do. I don’t think many people hear His actual voice today, but He does still speak to us. Nowadays He usually seems to use the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit and speak directly to our minds. What we often call our hearts. In fact, He has already spoken to each of your hearts,” Pastor Chuck looked around the table, “or you all wouldn’t be here planning your baptism. You just need to listen for God’s voice,” he said.
Pastor Chuck looked at Joseph’s mom. “And your pastor tells me you have been studying to be baptized too,” he said. “I think that is wonderful, especially since I get to baptize both you and Joseph together.”
Mom smiled.
“Well,” G.M. put in, wiping her mouth with her napkin, “I’m certainly not the voice of God, but I would like to say that this is my daughter and I love her. I am very pleased with her. And my grandson too. In fact, I can’t think of anything in this life that would make me happier.”
