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  1. During my almost 30 years at Desert Cross, I observed many baptisms and participated to some degree in some of them. Each one was special in it’s own way and always touched my heart. I always think back to the baptism of our son Jeff, in a small church in a Houston suburb, back in 1972. I will never forget the vision of the young pastor, with the long flowing sleeves of his robe, took Jeff in his hands and held him high, as an offering to God. I have seldom seen that done since then, but it is a sight that was burned into my memory.


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