Birthdays

I cried on my 34th birthday.

It was just too close to 35, which was too close to 40.  Go figure.  

Having just celebrated my 59th birthday (along with a few of our other NH ladies), I am just happy to still be alive.  I'm looking at "making it" to my 60th birthday next year. 

My, how time changes things. 

For one thing, time puts things in perspective.  My aches, pains, and inability to sleep well remind me that this life is fleeting, that our bodies are decaying, that "we are dust", as the Psalmist puts it in 103.  And while I can color my hair, put creams on my face, and dress like a teenager (please don't ever let me do that!), there is no question that I'm going downhill.  My knee reminds me daily. 

For another, time brings us closer to Christ.  I mean that both spiritually and physically.  I can almost count on my fingers and toes the number of years before I'll likely see Him in person.  And the nearer I come to that day and the longer the time I spend in His Word, the better I love Him and understand my need of Him.  I'm seeing His awesomeness more clearly, trusting Him more fully, and increasingly observing such amazing things in His Word. 

And in time, the Rider on the white horse, the One called Faithful and True, clothed in a robe dipped in blood, will come to meet me and take me to His (our) home.  Read Revelation 19-22 if you want the goose-bump thrill of anticipating that day. 

This is why I no longer cry on birthdays.  (Don't hold me to that next year, though.)  I'm nearer than I ever was to my true home and my true self.