Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

It was Kristen who first gave voice to the thought.

"I want a baby sister, and her name will be Mary." She had been taking stock of the families with whom we went to church and had decided that something significant was missing from ours.  Everyone had a sibling but her. We agreed that it was a sad state of affairs.

We gave her a baby doll for Christmas, whom she promptly named. . . Mary. As if reading our minds, she looked us squarely in the eyes and said, ". . . just until the real Mary gets here."

"We'll have to pray and ask God to give us a baby," we told her. In her typical no-nonsense way, she was on it. Each night at bedtime she prayed, "Dear God, please send us a baby sister named Mary."

Several months later I wrote in my journal, "The night we found out about the baby, I think David called everyone from church to tell them. Kristen talks to the baby and prays for her.  We pray that she will be healthy, and that she will always love Jesus."

Over nineteen years have passed since those days of anticipation and joy. The years are filled with mental snapshots that flutter past like swiftly turning pages in the photo album of life.

A chubby cheeked, sweet-natured infant gazing up with amazement at her big sister.

A nine-month old cherub with a big pink bow on her bald little head as we handed her over to a team of doctors who would place tubes in her tiny little ears.

A serious little girl with a Dutch boy haircut selling lemonade by the side of the road.

A slender six-year old learning to swim with big gruff Coach Irwin whose voice always got softer and kinder when he spoke to "the little people."

A blonde adolescent, all arms and legs smiling through braces of every imaginable size and shape.

A lovely teen ager, becoming more and more beautiful, collecting friends everywhere she went.

And now. . .

I still see hints of the chubby cheeks and the laughing eyes, but they belong to a young woman who is becoming as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She is growing in wisdom, grace, compassion, and faith. I have fewer opportunities to stroke her silky hair or plant a kiss on her soft cheek, but my prayer for her every day is the same as it has been for over nineteen years,

 "Lord, take care of her, keep her healthy, and may she always love Jesus."

Happy Birthday, sweet girl.  I love you!

Birthday Reflections

When they were babies, my daughters taught me the most important lesson on birthdays:  Eat the frosting first!

The gals from the Pink Posse Breast Cancer survivor group taught me never to take birthdays for granted.

My 94 year old grandmother taught me that every birthday is a celebration, whether it's yours or not.

The GEICO car insurance bill I received in my mailbox today taught me that contrary to all the Hallmark cards, today is NOT just all about me.

Sydney, and Wendy, and Jered, taught me that it's very cool to have birthday buddies with whom to share my special day.

My friends and family taught me that it's nice to be remembered, even from as far away as Morocco, Colorado, Ohio, and yes, even Myrtle Beach.

And the Lord, my precious Father who is the Giver of life and  every good and perfect gift, taught me the most important lesson of them all.

"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."  (Psalm 90:12)

I read the birthday list in Genesis 5 today.  You know, "So all the years of Seth were 905 and he died. . . So all the days of Cainan were 910 years; and he died. . . "  Each entry read pretty much the same until I got to Enoch. "After he begat Methuselah, Enoch walked with God three hundred years, and had sons and daughters. . . So all the days of Enoch were 365 years.  And Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him." (v. 21-24)

Wow.  What a testimony.  Not that he lived, had children, and died, but that "he walked with God."  Every man on this list was granted a lifetime to live.  Some lived it for themselves in selfish pursuits.  Others walked with God.

When I come to the end of my life, may it be said of me, "She walked with God, and then was not, for the Lord took her."

I cannot think of a more fitting epitaph.