Ever-Praise: A Birthday Song

Psalm 71:5-6  

For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD,

my confidence since my youth.

From birth I have relied on you, 

you brought me forth from my mother's womb.  

I will ever praise You.

Today I am 68.  

What a gift!  

And while it's true that more recently 'my doctors find me ever so much more interesting' (thank you Parker Palmer), the positives far outweigh the negatives for me at this point.  Without minimizing some of the challenges that any of us Boomers might be facing these days, I find myself approaching this birthday with hope and optimism and delight.

So, in the spirit of "I will ever praise You," I offer a 68th birthday song, in the form of a list of sorts.

Things I love about this era of my life that I could not say were true or even possible for my younger self:

• The richness of life-long relationships.
• The happy surprises inherent in new friendships.
• Having friends in every age-bracket, different cultures, and with a wide variety of philosophical, political, and religious views.
• The depth of a long, long love (47 years this August).
• Seeing my adult children engage meaningfully in their lives, and how honest they've been in the face of their sorrows.
• The indescribable joy of grandchildren.
• The wonder of also being an adopted Gramma to so many more of them!
• Less tethered to geography; more tied to people.
• Finding that work-life sweet spot of doing what you love.
• All that there is left to learn!
• What comes around has gone around a few times before, so there's less to fret about.
• Being better friends with my body.
• By now I know so many songs!
• Finding out that sunrises and sunsets never get old.
• The freedom to simplify.
• Not as afraid of bees and spiders (or creepy things in general).
• More aware of and less threatened by being wrong.
• More able to self-advocate without losing my cool.
• I've had enough time to practice it, so there's more gratitude and less complaining, which is such a nicer, lighter thing to carry around.
• With nothing left to prove, I'm more free to become myself.
• The faithful presence of God is more real even as it becomes more mystical, and I love Him more and more because of it.

And oh the list could be longer, but I'll leave it at that for now.

On to all the delightful traditions of a cottage birthday.

And yes, there'll be cake.  Of course there'll be cake!

New Things a Birthday Brings

[First posted on Facebook on June 8 (2024) which is my actual birthday. :)]

It's hard to think of a much better way to be spending a birthday than in one of my most favourite places with my favourite guy with a fire on built by him. A warming wake up birthday treat.

Too cloudy and gusty for a kayak this morning, so a cozy vibe it is, and that's just fine by me.

Today I turn 67. And for the record, I think that's fabulous! Every year of my life so far has been full of God's grace and goodness, so I can't wait to see what's ahead between now and my next birthday.

For whatever reason, I've been parked in Isaiah 43 for a while now. And today I'm all bundled up on the couch with pillows and a blanket, reflecting on this cool contrast that's laid out about the middle of the chapter (starting at verse 14 or so).

With the rather authoritative intro line to the section, "This is what Yahweh says..." there's a description of God's deliverance at the Red Sea, where water was parted and dry land appeared, making a way forward where there was no way.

But, having just on purpose reminded them of this amazing demonstration of His Power and Presence in days gone by,

at verse 18, He says,

"Forget the former things;

do not dwell in the past."

Based on what comes next, I am inclined to translate this as,

"You ain't seen nuthin' yet!!"

Because God goes on to say He's "doing a new thing" and describes the exact opposite strange and wonderful occurrence as being yet another way to know He's right there with His people.

"I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."

Where there was once lots of water, dry land.

Where there was desert, water.

Where there was destruction and violence, there is now serene spaces for wild animals - and us, His people - to come and be restored. New life, fresh growth, loud praise.

A new thing.

I want to remember this, my 67th birthday, as a time when, in the midst of big changes, I fully embraced all the new things. A time when I could simultaneously remember all the goodness of God's great faithfulness and rescue and power displayed against unthinkable odds in the past, and look forward to the new spaces He's preparing for me in the future.

Because, honestly? I actually do think that I ain't seen nuthin' yet.

So, if it's okay to say it, Happy Birthday to me.

And happy new things for us all!

The Paradox of Parenting: A Birthday Letter to My Sensational Daughter

 

Happiest of birthday celebrations to my incredible daughter!

I won't be able to be a proper helicopter Mom, doing all the birthday things Moms of adult daughters with four children are prone to do, (eg. protecting a long birthday afternoon nap), until we're all at the cottage together.

But for today.

Can I just say that you are to me, in every possible way, remarkable.

Who you are and who you are becoming is more than I could possibly have imagined in those first days of cradling your sweet baby face in my hand. And now your face, your smile, your whole countenance bears the strength and beauty and honesty of deep character, fierce tenacity, and unspeakable faithfulness.

This, so much, so much, in spite of me.

I've been reflecting of late on the absurdity of the biology of parenting. Why is it set up, do you think, that our bodies are best able to birth children at a time of life when we are still figuring out who we are ourselves?

Why, when wisdom is so badly needed in the guidance of the most vulnerable of souls, is it not until after we've raised them that we even begin to get little snippets of it?

How ironic that the skills and character required to parent are actually developed over there years of parenting itself! And by the time you think maybe you have the swing of it, the job is done and it's time to release your child.

I haven't formulated a resolution to this yet. It may have something to do with the fact that for centuries upon centuries families raised children intergenerationally, whereas in our industrialized, independent households age, we more or less let young parents fend for themselves. I'll have to do a bit more research here.

Until then, and regardless, both Dad and I are so incredibly proud of you. You changed our lives, not just the day you were born and we actually became parents, but all throughout your growth and becoming, as you kept on becoming, and keep on becoming, all you were created to be. We are not the same because of you, all of you.

And if they lined up all the adult daughters of the world, and they asked me to pick just one....