My Birthday

Today is my sixty-third birthday. I’m afraid that my family is not too thrilled with my birthday mood. I am considered a gloomy Gus on birthdays. I guess I owe them an explanation.

First, I take no credit for making it for 63 years. I am responsible in no way for this. Life is the gift of God. It is a gift in conception, in regeneration, in eternity. He determines the number of our years. It seems silly to me to accept congratulations for something for which we have no part.

Don’t get me wrong. I am extremely grateful for the years I have been given. Occasionally, I review the obituaries and notice how often the dead have had fewer years, often many fewer years, than I have been granted. I am grateful for every year, every hour, every second.

If I am glum at the time of the celebration of my birth it is because I feel I have not taken full advantage of the gift of time I have been given. We can only live today and it is not fruitful to spend much time considering the wasted years. However, I think it is wise occasionally to give some consideration to that waste, if, for no other reason, it motivates us to minimize waste in the future.

I often wonder what would have been accomplished if I had rightly responded to every opportunity given to me over the last 63 years. I have to admit that I would be at a different place than I find myself today. That creates a sense of loss.

I don’t know how many more years I have been given. I must do as much with them as I can. Sometimes I feel like a 63 year old babysitter. If that is what He wants, that is what He will get…to the best of my ability. If He wants more, it is my responsibility to discern that as well and live it out.

For all the good wishes and congratulations, thank you. To those who have wondered at my less than gleeful spirit, I hope you understand better.

Love,

Nick