"Special" Birthday

There are lots of things I could talk to you about today.

I could tell you that I’ve arbitrarily declared today to be December 1, because the two inches (and still coming down) of snow we have is acceptable for December 1, but in my opinion is completely not acceptable for April 20th.

I could tell you how glad I am for a cup of passion tea this morning.

I could tell you about eating pizza with Megs last night, and starting to watch a movie, getting twenty minutes in and turning it off and going shopping instead. (I can’t even tell you the title of the movie, because I’ve forgotten it. It was crude, dirty, had David Duchovny and Julianne Moore and Maggie Gyllenhal and someone else, and sounded so inoccuous on the back cover that neither one of us remembered to look at the rating or the comments that go with the rating. Can I just say that I have an incredibly bad track record of picking independent or lesser known movies – the ones I pick are almost invariably BAD. So if you’re ever watching a movie like that with me, don’t let me pick!)

I could tell you about the attitudes I was raised with, the ones I was thinking about on the way to work this morning as I slogged through the snow from the train station. The ones that say that spiritual warfare is something that only happens in lesser developed countries. The ones that say that poverty is something I should care about if it’s a starving African child, because they can’t help themselves, but something I should look down on if it’s a north-american street person, because really, why don’t they just get it together and find a job?

Or, now that I’ve got those other things out of my system, I could tell you why April 20 is a special day for me. I think I’ll just go ahead and do that.

You see, 19 years ago today, I knelt down on the dirty chocolate brown shag carpet that was then in our living room (can you say 1970’s leftovers!?) beside my mom, and, in the simplistic language that a four year old uses, “asked Jesus into my life.”

My parents made a big deal out of this. They made a big deal out of reminding us every year, honoring this choice, the commitment we’d made. They’d remind us, even when we forgot about our “special birthday” (which we also called our “spiritual birthday”). We had a special dinner plate that we used to use for special occasions. I don’t remember exactly what all was on it, but it was blue and white, and I remember that it said “you are loved” on the rim somewhere. Basically, it showed up for each of us two or three times a year, on our actual birthday, on our “special” birthday, and maybe when something really exciting happened. My parents believed in celebrating our unique accomplishments and special occasions.

I resented April 20 for a number of years. All those years of depression, when I was praying that God would simply release me from the “unknowing” commitment I made at age four. I was begging God to let go of me, because it seemed that all I’d ever had from him was pain. If he wasn’t going to let me go, I told him, then just let me die, because I was done living.

Last year, my healing was new, and I was embroiled in the midst of caring for some very “messy” people, handling some messy stuff in my own life, and job hunting, and April 20th passed without notice or incident.

But today, I’m grateful. I’m grateful to the four year-old me, the simple faith that handed my life to Jesus. I’m grateful in hindsight for all the years that Jesus walked with me, through pain and depression and suffering. And I’m grateful for my relationship with him today. I’m grateful that I can say that I’ve known Jesus and even tried to walk with him for most of the last nineteen years. I’m grateful for the healing he’s brought. I’m grateful for the deep heart knowledge of his love for me. And so, inside me today, I’m celebrating. I’m reveling in a significant moment. I’m enjoying my “special birthday.” And I’m passing birthday wishes on to you. May you know Christ, be found in him, not having a rightousness of your own that comes from the law, but a righteousness that is through faith in him. May you know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death and so somehow to attain to the resurrection of the dead. (Philippians 3).