Every Easter Sunday, except for one particularly cold, bitter morning, my church holds a sunrise service. Despite having to wake up at 5:30 in the morning and leave the comfort of my bed, I find the beach to hold a different kind of comfort. This morning was particularly special. My youngest brother was getting baptized in the frigid cold of the Sound (the Atlantic). This monumental moment brought tears to my eyes as I watched my brother dedicate his life to the most glorious purpose. I am a very proud and sentimental sister. We begin by gathering and singing as the sun paints our faces orange and pink and we paint with our praises.
This next set of photos I've called "The Redeemer's March," it is a set of black and whites that portray the linear events that occurred in my brother's baptism.