Where God’s love finds you again

Dear Friend,

I wrote the story below a few years ago. It’s rooted in a deeply personal moment when I was re-baptized in the Sea of Galilee during a season of profound Undoing. That experience became a touchstone for me, a place where God gently uncovered the parts of myself I had lost sight of, and invited me back into the truth of who I am in Him.

This is at the heart of Safe Harbor Ministry’s mission: helping people rediscover their image-bearing self—the Imago Dei, uniquely crafted by God, patiently formed over a lifetime, and loved beyond measure.

So often our God-given identity becomes hidden beneath layers of wounding, fear, and falsehood in this sin-scarred world. Yet the Father is ever at work, breaking through with His healing presence and liberating truth.

It’s no accident that more than half of the New Testament references to God as Father appear in the Gospel of John. One of John’s grand themes is Jesus’ invitation into the very love the Father has for Him: “...that the world may know that You sent me and loved them even as You loved Me… that the love with which You have loved Me may be in them, and I in them.” (John 17:23, 26.)

My hope is that this story stirs something familiar in your own walk with God; a moment where His love reached beneath the surface and found you again. Today, on this Giving Tuesday, let’s give thanks for the ways the Father continues to meet us, transform us, and call us back to our true selves in Him.

Raised to New Life

The fifty-something pastor eased the soles of his feet into the water, both excited and nervous, and more than a little self-conscious. This was mainly because curious acquaintances he had known only for two weeks were now seeing his doughy, usually clothed body, which was covered only with his ill-fitting, out-of-date swim trunks.

As the water rose over his ankles, he pondered that only a month ago, after 23 years of pastoring, he hadn’t just hit, but had smashed headfirst into the proverbial “wall.” His inner world seemed to shatter overnight. He had barely talked himself out of checking into the local hospital’s psych ward. He still wonders if he should have gone because he couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t escape the pain, couldn’t pull himself together. It all pointed to a cold, undeniable truth: he could no longer do the work of ministry. He was done. Period.

His leadership board put him on an immediate emergency sabbatical. For this he was immensely grateful, because without it he would have had to resign. There was nothing in him then, and even now, to power through the depression this time. Unending demands, loneliness, insecurity, failure, and betrayal all converged at once. It was all just too much. His counselor explained that his self-protecting, compartmentalized walls that kept him safe and sane had collapsed, causing every area of life to flood into the others. Yes; this captured it well. Overwhelmed and over his head; sinking and drowning; gasping for air and grasping for something solid. All of this occurred only a month ago.

It felt a bit surreal that he and his wife were now in Israel, nearing the end of a three-week class that they scheduled five months before his crash. “I guess there are worse places to recover,” he thought wryly, glancing heavenward.

Standing on the eastern shore with the sun setting before him, the cool water of the Sea of Galilee now reached his knees. As he waded deeper, he gazed toward the ancient city of Tiberias. Strange how he had forgotten a decades-old dream to be re-baptized in Israel—not as the boy from his first baptism, but to openly declare his cherished union with the Triune God. The same waters where Peter once hosted Jesus in his boat were now up to his mid-thigh. Earlier that morning, he had stepped off a boat that carried their class from the hotel to the very city he now faced. As he stood on the gangplank, he had sensed a clear reminder from the Lord resonating deep within: “Tonight, be baptized in the Sea of Galilee.” He even knew which two pastors to ask. These pastors now flanked him on either side, debating how much farther out they should wade. Not quite waist-deep, the three men had created separation from the witnesses standing a few feet away.

The shallowness of his long-held goal to be re-baptized in Israel was exposed as he realized the deep significance unfolding in this moment. Here stood a pastor utterly broken and humiliated. He wrestled not only with whether he was finished as a pastor, but whether he could ever live normally again. Not long ago he had seemed like a sturdy vessel. Now he felt like scattered shards of pottery-impossible to reassemble into anything useful. He felt exposed as the fraud he had always feared he might be. The sharp edges of his shattered life scraped against a fragile and uncertain future, paralyzing him with fear.

Behind Tiberias, Mount Arbel, with its jagged cliffs and flat summit, was standing guard over this harp-shaped lake, which is wrongly named a sea. It was not lost on him that this mountain, long associated with the place where Jesus gave the Great Commission, was the same place where He authorized us to baptize into the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He humbly stood in quiet wonder. He was now only moments away from those transcendent words of Christ being spoken over him. Waist-high in the lake where Jesus once walked on the water, they turned to face the others. One of the pastors spoke a verse he had memorized long ago:

“As Paul taught us in Romans 6, verse 4, ‘We were buried, therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.’”

This was the cry of his heart: if his old life was dying—smashed against the wall—then please, God—might he also walk in newness of life? Suddenly, the moment arrived.

“In the name of the Father”—he went under, held by the two men of God.

“The Son”—again he was lowered beneath the rolling water; “—and the Holy Spirit”—the final, symbolic burial of the old self.

Then he rose, as if lifted by an unseen force, standing tall. He was not a man prone to emotional outbursts, but this wave of joy was unstoppable. He spread his arms wide as tears mingled with lake water on his face. Turning heavenward, he shouted with everything in him: ‘Hallelujah!’ No one there that day could see that heaven had joined the celebration. The pastor sensed something stirring, but he could not fully grasp that God was truly present. In that mystical moment, time itself slowed in reverence before the Divine Presence. What lasted only seconds on earth unfolded leisurely for the Ancient of Days, for eternity is never in a hurry. Jesus—unseen, but standing only a few feet before him—watched with expectancy. Then He nodded toward heaven. On cue, the invisible Spirit fluttered down upon Him and then flowed outward to the newly baptized man. As the man rose from the water that third time, the Spirit removed the old, weathered wineskin, revealing the hidden image he had always borne but could now finally experience and enjoy. Unbeknownst to him, he was being filled with new wine from the Vine, tenderly cared for by the Gardener.

The Son of Man, knowing what would come next, smiled at the pastor before looking upward again. His gaze met Someone above, and then His eyes closed as His face softened into the contented joy of a child fully embraced by a loving Father. The connection looked well-worn, as if it occurred endlessly, yet never lost its warmth or passion.

Jesus’ love-filled gaze returned to the man just as he spread his arms, lake water, trickling down. His soul was about to be overwhelmed even further. He could not fully understand until much later the source of his “Hallelujah!” that sprang up like a fountain within him. For the only Good and True Father was making a declaration of relationship, one purchased by His Son at a great cost so His beloved ones could share in His Father’s eternal love. Heard not with earthly ears, but deep within his heart where the Spirit dwells, the Father unashamedly proclaimed to this broken pastor, “You are my beloved son, with you I am well-pleased!”

To view Pastor Mike’s Re-baptism video, Click the video below or this LINK