Why Every Day Could Be Your Birth-Day

The pitter patter of six-year-old feet foiled my plan.

It was the first day in ages that my alarm hadn’t been set for the crack of dawn. Call it indulgent, but it seemed that a woman should be able to clock a little extra sleep on her birthday.

But his urgent murmur sliced through my hazy slumber and challenged my assumption.

“Mommy!” he whispered, showering my warm cheek with a damp mixture of spit and morning breath.

“You’ve got to get up and look out the window. There’s a present outside just for you.”

I propped myself on my elbows and tried to focus on the brown-haired boy swaying in glee beside my bed.

“What is it, buddy?” I asked, my words still slurred by sleepy stupor.  

“Mom, it’s something beautiful. You’ve just got to come see.”

He wrapped his slender fingers around my arm and tugged me toward the side of the bed.

“C’mon, Mommy…It’s your birthday.“

And I just wanted some sleep, I thought to myself as I slid my weary legs over the edge of the mattress and let my littlest boy lead me to his bedroom window.

The sky was still a sheen of dark velvet, a dramatic backdrop for the graceful orange gleams stretching slapdash across the horizon.

“See?” my morning messenger said, his lips curled in a satisfied smile, “I told you it was beautiful.”

We stood side by side watching God scribble glory across the easel of dawn.

And then Josh abandoned his post at the window and beckoned me to follow. “We’ve got to get closer, Mom!”

Fully awake, I nodded in agreement and we headed quietly to the front door.

Like two prisoners set free, we skipped giddy through the dew-drenched grass and planted ourselves on the side of the yard where the trees didn’t block our view.

Joshua leaned heavy against my knees and we stood there, two barefooted beauty-chasers, soaking in the dazzle of daybreak.

“I think God’s just painting the sky for your birthday,” Josh whispered, his voice husky with holy awe.

“And you were His messenger who told me to unwrap the gift,” I said, enfolding my boy’s bony frame and resting my chin atop his fly-away hair.

“Yeah,” Josh sighed with a touch of satisfactory pride, “I wonder if He’ll paint the sky on my birthday, too.”

I bent low to whisper in my littlest boy’s ear. “I know He will…. God paints the sky every morning.”

Joshua twisted his head over his shoulder and held my gaze, his green eyes wide with wonder.

“He does this every day?”

“Every day,” I said with a nod.

And I marveled at what I know but fail to remember. Every day is a birth day.  

If every day is a birth day; then every day holds the promise of possibility. Every day is a blank palette just waiting to be filled with new beauty.

And that’s good news for this flawed and fumbling grace-seeker. ‘Cause there’s an awful lot of days when I’m longing for a re-do; far too many nights when I collapse into bed and wish that I could reverse the clock and try again.

I don’t know about you, but I’m a woman who could a second chance now and then (or a third, or a fourth, or…)

Another chance to speak life instead of grumble; one more shot to follow in faith rather than waiver in fear; yet another try at surrendering to God’s plan rather than clinging to my own.

The good news of the gospel isn’t just that we have a Savior who offers us eternal life; but that we a Father who is in the business of transforming our lives day by day. 

No matter what yesterday entailed–no matter how much we failed, how far we fell, or how big we blew it, today is another chance to be made new.  Today is another opportunity to lift our hands to Heaven and let them be filled with the Creator’s dreams. 

Each morning brings the gift of new grace. Every sunrise bears hues of hope.

And that’s good news for this birthday girl who is still believing that the best is yet to come…

Joshua was dancing happy beneath that cotton-candy sky, kicking up dew drops and stretching his skinny arms to Heaven.

 And in the wee hours of morning, one year after the dawn of my fourth decade,  I felt like a newborn seeing the world for the very first time as God birthed purple streaks of new mercy across the blazing sky.  Then I joined my whimsical worshiper in his dew-drenched dance and gratefully received the undeserved gift of yet another day. 

 How about you, friends, what kind of new things is He birthing in your life these days? I’d count it a gift if you’d share in the comments!

Linking with Jen at Soli Deo Gloria,  Jen at Rich Faith Rising and Jennifer Tell His Story