HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

Yesterday was my birthday!  I love birthdays!  Birthdays mean I made it another year.  Birthdays mean I am special!  I am unique!  One of a kind!

And to that last one, many people say, “AMEN!”

As a kid, I got to pick what we had for supper.  I usually picked mom’s Swiss steak, cooked in gravy, and mashed potatoes.  It also meant waiting till my dad got home to open presents.  Dad was a trucker and he did try to make it home for our birthdays.  It might be selective memory, but I think he always made it.  (If one of my sisters reads this, do not tell me any different!  This is my memory and I want to keep it!)  Birthday presents consisted of one toy, a dress mom made, and a few small gifts.  Of course, a cake!

Then along came our children.  I would buy a paper table cloth (Remember those?  They we very inexpensive, especially if you could find one in the sale cart.), cut it up, and decorate the house.  The kids never knew what to expect.  One year, we took yarn and strung it through the whole house.  At intervals, we would put a gift.  Willie thought it was fun until he realized two people could string yarn where one person had trouble winding it back up.  (Getting it under and wrapped around the bed was a challenge.)  The next year was easier:  a scavenger hunt.  Once, Terri wanted to play Let’s Make a Deal for her birthday.  Which door would she pick?  Door 1, door 2 or door 3?  Would she keep that gift or trade for another?  Then there was the year she wanted one gift for each year, which required 12 gifts.  She did not see the humor in socks wrapped individually instead of in a pair.  Willie encountered a car full of balloons one year.  Ever tried to fill a car with balloons without them blowing out?  Darn that was fun!  And all the while, my reserved hubby would shake his head and wonder exactly how my mind came up with all this stuff.

Now?  Birthdays are a bit quieter.  Even the grandkids have outgrown crazy birthdays.  No more yarn.  No more guessing which door the best gift was hidden behind.  No more balloons in cars.  Sadly, no paper tablecloths cut apart and taped everywhere.  BUT, each birthday is still special!

Why?  Each birthday is a reminder that God is not done with me yet.  He has a world for me to enjoy.  God has doors for me to open.  He has gifts for me to find.  He wants me to pop those birthday balloons.

When your birthday comes around, remember –

You are special!

You are unique!

You are one of a kind!

and

GOD IS NOT DONE WITH YOU YET!