In early 2023 I traveled to Israel and the Palestinian Territories. This was not my first time abroad but this trip was different than prior trips. First and foremost, I was in the midst of one of the most difficult mental health challenges of my life. Having spent months in a depressive cycle and at the time still dealing with thoughts of ending my own life. This trip had only arrived on my radar as a past youth leader from my youth had posted on Instagram that this trip which was already in motion now had available spaces for anyone looking to join last minute. I remember reading her post on the treadmill at the local Planet Fitness. In my mind it felt like it could be an escape from what I had been dealing with, a desire to reconnect with God; since this trip was a missionary tour of the country through a New Testament lens, and also a way to see what the hub bub was about this Israeli-Palestinian conflict I’ve heard about on the news for the longest time. A multi-faceted reason to go but a pull that I won’t forget.
To skip ahead, I had survived with myself long enough to get on the plan to Tel Aviv and after a long flight, arrived. It was almost immediately that I realized I was in another world as our taxi bus driver said something to me in what I assume to be Arabic. I explained quickly “I’m not sure what you’re saying”. And although thankful he was able to speak English, he replied: “You’re in my seat”. To which in my anxiety I quickly changed seats on the bus and realized fully that I was not in Kansas anymore.
We arrived in Old Jerusalem shortly and it was as if we had travelled back in time. Cobble stone streets, structures from ancient times on every corner and a generosity that was engrained in every interaction. Through the week we had also befriended a local shop owner who made sure to invite us to his shop for lunch each day and made sure we had a free drink in the morning on our way out for our touring. He himself also explaining that Jerusalem is a beautiful place (showing us a few secret locations for a view of the cityscape) with beautiful people but filled with so much tension for centuries over the land. Himself sad that there has been so much bloodshed in the place considered the holiest in the world. But also sharing hopefulness that there as just as many; if not more, good people in the world than those that wish to continue the cycle of violence here. And this is what I saw early on, people who wish to live without fear, to live with hope and peace, but caught in the cycle that others have produced.
I kept this in mind as we traveled throughout the country. Taking in the sites, the sounds, the people and the food. Learning from our guides and local exactly what this land meant to them and also learning about our faith as Christians with it all right in front of my eyes. Several times I broke down to myself while trying to process being in the very footsteps of the one who became flesh for our salvation. While also feeling confusion as to how disconnected I had gotten from him to the point of wanting the gift of life to end in my case. Lastly, feeling a sense of amazement that he chose me; a man who once was wheelchair bound and unable to walk for years (I’ll get to that story another time) who was now hiking through Jericho under the hot Levantine sun. My God is too good to me but once again in my sorrow was rescuing me and watering me as I bloom.
It became apparent to me what His plan was for me and why there was such a push for me to come to this land. During out commute on the tour bus one of our leaders announced that there is an opportunity tomorrow to be baptized in the Jordan River as we make our way to a baptismal site believed to be the location of Jesus’ baptism by John in the Gospels. And if you know me, I immediately…
…sunk into my seat, kept my hand down and avoided raising my hand.
The one thing you should know about me is attention & I DO NOT go together. Being a person having dealt with chronic illness; especially one that was at one time visible, any attention was negative attention. It was either because I was helpless or because public stares often came with “What’s wrong with him” type of energy. As badly as I knew I need baptism I couldn’t collect myself in the moment to raise my hand to be added to the list. But I only had 24 hours; if that, to somehow make this change. That night I spoke to my friend who I came to Israel with and explained that I was seriously considering it but was so nervous in the moment but also that I had been having great “difficulty” back home that baptism felt like a necessity. Thankfully he was understanding; not unexpected, and pushed me to text our leader to get on the list. Texting felt like a much more optimal way to get my name on that list. Within minutes my leader replied that “Absolutely!” I could be baptized the following afternoon. A sense of relief came over me that 1) I was able to do so, and 2) Maybe this was the moment I needed and the reason I was able to find my way here.
Everything that next day was a blur. The morning getting ready, the bus ride, the instructions they gave those who were being baptized. I couldn’t give you any details. Just a feeling of anxiety and longing that everything I had brought with me internally to that place could be left behind. Perhaps some feeling that if this didn’t work then I don’t know what could. I was asked to share testimony and from how it was delivered it was just word vomit. I shared detail about dealing with some family issues back home, stress and feeling down but not ready; especially in front of a majority of strangers, that I was days away from ending my life and how lost I am. Next thing I knew I was taking off my sweatpants and shirt and getting into the river. I had on a bathing suit, don’t worry those at the site were well protected from my birthday suit. I stood in the water as my leader spoke on seeing me grow into a person on fire for the lord, something about my heart for service and a handful of other things that I had difficulty paying attention to. I was too distracted by the ripple of the current, the heat of the sun on my chest, seeing the reeds move on the bank of the river and the eyes of strangers on me. Even peering over at one point to the Jordanian side of the river seeing tourists stand to watch. In my head the entire time also trying to figure out “How did I end up feeling this poorly?”, “How did I lose so much connection to God that I had?”.
“Tyler are you ready?” my leader said.
I snapped out of my trance momentarily and nodded; not knowing what happened. “…Who is your Lord and Savior?”. “Jesus Christ”, which was firm, immediate and easiest answer I could ever give to a question. “With those words, I want to baptize you Tyler; in the Jordan River, in the name of the Father and of the Son and the Holy Spirit”.
It went dark.
I knew I was under the water, I felt it consume me. It took over my chest, my neck, my mouth, eyes and nose. Cold and dark. I felt as if I was underneath the current for hours. Just frozen in time; silent and still. A stillness that my body hadn’t felt in a very long time. And then a force rushed over me and I was coming up out of the river. Although when I came up, a weight was left beneath me in the river. The weight that had been crushing me felt almost pulled away from me and drowned in that river. An absence of responsibility to pick it back up. As I wiped my eyes, an immediate freshness and stillness filled me as I embraced my leader and clapping, prayer and congratulations then filled my ears. Still a sense of “If they only knew what just happened” in my mind.
It wouldn’t be for another year, plus that I would begin to open up to others about what had happened before that moment and also what had been occurring underneath the water. Not that I was ashamed; anything but that now, but it was something I myself was still processing following the immediate sweep of joy that I was now experiencing. The days that followed felt like a rush of peace, stillness, information, understanding and recalibrating. Especially, still taking in what had happened and seeing more and more of this land that my savior had lived amongst. The people, the cultures, the celebrations and the prayer now felt so different than that which I had been accustomed to back home and in my youth.
Not to rush to the end of the story, but I knew after that baptism the plan that was already being produced as I was standing on that treadmill in Planet Fitness. The push to get me on that plane and get on that tour bus. The love that was surrounding me to get me into that river; even when I felt I had none. And the faith to follow these steps even when I wanted everything to end. I needed to be in that river. God knew I needed that river; to be realigned together and start a new phase of our relationship together. God allowed me one final step before making my own decisions. To release me, to fill me, to give me rest and rejuvenation. To realign me with Him and His plan for my life.
It might be overplayed to say God saved me, but there is not other way to put it. I think I just also need to emphasize He saved me from many things in that time but also myself. God does save and that comes in many forms that we may or may not be familiar with. My saving came in the form of the river that both myself and my savior were baptized in. It was at the bottom of that river that I was saved and found Him.
The Jordan River, March 27th 2023
Through the Looking Glasses 
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