Our children always write birthday notes to us (okay, with some gentle persuasion from mom or dad), and I have saved them all... somewhere in my stuff. Truly treasures, every single one of them! But I have to reprint our 10 year old's letter that I opened this morning, misspellings and all:
"Dear Mom, Happy Birthday! Thank so much for helping me and feeding me and so much more! I hope you get what you want! You help all of us when we are sik or heart. [Spelling is not our strong suit] Thank you so much for comeing watch us play sports. I hope this is the best day of your life and best birthday ever. We no you are going to love your presents. Happy birthday! Love, Peter" [Did I mention that spelling is most definitely not our strong suit? But we make up for it in sweetness! At least Peter does, anyway.]
Now first off, I'm glad he's grateful we feed him! So right off the bat, the bar is obviously set pretty low for old Mom, and I'm thankful I have met the challenge: we feed our children and help them when they are sick or hurt. And please don't forget I attend their sporting events--mother of the year, here I come!
But I especially loved "I hope this is the best day of your life and best birthday ever." O for the precious perspective of a child! When you get to be my age, another year added onto your age tends not to be a tremendous cause for rejoicing. The birthday cards about aging are all hilarious... sort of... and you are just thankful to still be here for another year, but otherwise, growing older can be, hmmm, well, somewhat challenging.
Yet as I thought about sweet Peter's words, I felt overwhelmed with the knowledge and the gratitude, that this is, indeed, "the best day of my life." Here's what I am doing for my birthday: going to a family event at one of my children's schools, doing laundry, cleaning up the children's rooms (Lord have mercy), walking our ever-slowing sweet old dog, Moses, eating lunch with my wonderful sister and a dear friend, carpooling, doctor's appointment for a child, laundry, cleaning up, writing (yeah!!), helping with homework (Lord have mercy, again), laundry, cleaning up, going to Cloos Coney Island Hot Dogs for my birthday dinner with my husband and our children, watching our son's city league basketball game, reading to our youngest in bed (truly one of very favorite times of the day--thank You Lord!), making lunches, laundry, cleaning up, world's hottest bath (thank You Lord, again!), read for 2 and a half minutes before falling sound asleep.
Now admittedly, Donald Trump or Paris Hilton might not think that would constitute the best day of their lives, but let me tell you something, it doesn't get any better than this. No kidding. I'll admit, sometimes that is not my perspective. Sometimes I forget how ridiculously blessed I am by my extravagant, awesome Lord. Sometimes I see laundry and carpooling and doctor's appointments and cleaning as some kind of interruption or irritation that hinder what I should really be doing (which is, who on earth knows what).
I forget that my Savior who formed the stars and planets with a mere word and then flung them into space and who knows every hair on every head in the world, picked up a towel and washed filthy feet of clueless, unreliable, sometimes unfaithful disciples (John 13). I forget that He is not only my Savior, my Redeemer, my dearest Friend and ever faithful Companion, my Creator, my Sustainer, my Master, but He is also my example: "Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interest, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee would bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." (Phil.2:3-11)
Such is my God and there is none other. Who could not love such a Savior?
And remind me again, why do I think I am too big for my britches? What chore, what act of service is too insignificant for me when I follow and love the Lord-who-washes-filthy-feet? What interruption, always divinely appointed by my sovereign Savior, should not be my joyful priority since it is a way to serve and love the people He has so graciously, undeservedly, and lovingly placed in my life?
I don't have to do laundry. I get to wash and fold and match socks for big and little feet of the people I love with all my heart and soul. I don't have to clean or carpool or cook. I get to love and serve and help and nourish the most important, the dearest of eternal souls in this world. I get to go to the grocery store or the doctor's office or the school or the drug store to see and to encourage and to care for beloved, unique, priceless people that the Lord Jesus adores and came to seek and to save. And I get to love and serve and follow my Master, my Savior, my Lord every single day of my life. What an unspeakable privilege! What a life!
So, yes, Peter, today is the best day of my life, and I thank the Lord that this is my best birthday ever! And as long as I have breath in me, might I rejoice that this day, this hour, this moment, is "the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!" (Ps.118:24) To the Almighty God who came to serve and to save, be all the glory forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment