It’s nearly birthday time. I’m always amazed at how focused kids are on birthdays. When one comes around, nothing else matters except their birthday. And I’m not talking about the birthday boy. No – the word ‘birthday’ has some mystic force that lightens their eyes and grabs their imaginations. ‘My birthday is in 1 week!’ ‘My birthday is in only 8 months!’ It’s so earth-shattering from their tiny perspective. As we get older, birthdays can become a drudgery, just a memory of the ‘good ‘ol times.’ Celebrating the 20th anniversary of a 29th birthday – wishing to be back in that simpler, more innocent, wrinkle-free time.
What is a birthday, anyway? We think of cake and gifts and parties. But the day of our birth was an intimate, sacrificial, painful event, one of the most emotional, unforgettable moments of our parents’ lives that we somehow don’t remember. A day of passing from the nacient world to this world, full of wonder and awe, things only dreamed of, so much hope and love and joy to explore and experience. I remember the birth days of all of my children very well, and I delight in their anticipation for the celebration. Their birthdays are celebrations of their very existence, found only in God’s creative miracle of Life. Thank You, Lord, for the gift of Life.