EDITOR’S NOTE: The Times Free Press is continuing a series of stories from readers about life experiences they attribute to divine intervention. We’ll publish another each week as your stories continue to arrive. If you have a God Thing to share, email Life@timesfreepress.com, or mail to Life Department, Chattanooga Times Free Press, 400 E. 11th St., Chattanooga, TN 37403.
This week, Carole Cohen tells the story of her baptism.
I’ve had a couple of times when I was sure God was present in my life. I’m sure he saved my life during a robbery, but I want to talk about my baptism.
I moved to Chattanooga about three years ago after living in St. Louis all my life. As a child, I attended a church, which frightened me with sermons about hell and brimstone. I left that church as a teenager and didn’t attend a church after that. I married a Jewish man, remained a Christian. In 2001, we were divorced after 29 years of marriage.
In 2010, I told my girlfriend I’d never been baptized, as I never thought I was “good enough,” and felt the need to be. She called around to many churches before she found an Episcopal church that would baptize me even though I wasn’t a member of the church and wouldn’t become a member.