Well that’s done! I can check turning 40 off my list of things to do. And honestly, it was a wonderful birthday. Co-workers decorated my office with balloons, signs and lots of 40-themed stuff. Friends took me to lunch and baked me a cake. Family members called to celebrate me. My husband took me shopping at a favorite store and then we went out for an amazing dinner. Even Thistle gave me a card, though I think Jim helped her.
At work, one of the kids came to help with a mailing. It was her birthday, too. She turned 15 and she was excited about getting mint chocolate chip ice cream. As we talked about how we were celebrating out birthdays, something occurred to me. We wanted exactly the same thing.
Not cake and ice cream. Not a gift card to the mall. Not balloons and silly string. We both wanted to be celebrated. We both wanted people to “make over us” as my grandmother would say. We wanted hugs and smiles and lots of attention because this was OUR DAY.
And isn’t that what we all want to some degree? We want to know we’re important to someone else. To know that people would miss us if we weren’t there. To know that others care enough to go out of their way to remind us we’re special.
I’m afraid this is one of the reasons I write–one of the reasons I want so much to be published. I have an abiding desire to be “special.” If my book is published, that will set me apart from people who haven’t written a book and even from people who have written one that’s still sitting on a hard drive somewhere. It will make me important.
But here’s the thing. I know, in my heart, it won’t make me any more special or important than I already am. I’m special just because God made me. I’m important because God has a purpose He thought up just for me. He has one for you, too.
I love the song “Happy Birthday to Me,” sung by Glenn Yarborough. There’s a line that goes, “Why does it take, a birthday to make, me wonder how little I’ve grown.” There’s something about birthdays that tends to make me take stock. And there’s something about birthdays that reminds me I’m really, really important. As is everyone who has a birthday.
Happy Birthday to us all.