Death has never been far removed
from my birthday. I distinctly remember
spending my fifteenth birthday at a funeral service. It is fitting perhaps, as I spent the bulk of
my life wishing I had not been born. And
for that reason, amongst others, I have found it difficult to celebrate my
birthday in past years; but not this year.
This year, a few months earlier,
I had a moment with God, and in that moment, He shared with me something that I
had never considered before – that He loves my birthday, that He celebrates my
birthday, and that my birthday is a special day to Him.
Understanding this – hearing these
words from the God who loves me – this made all the difference in the world to
me. This gave me a reason to celebrate! Even if my birthday mattered to no one else,
it matters to Him! He loves my birthday,
and oh, to love the things that Jesus loves!
So this year, I celebrated. This year, I woke up early on July 19, happy
to be alive. This year, I spent the
entire day with my husband, doing some of my favorite things. And this year, a few weeks from now, I am
going to celebrate it again with some close friends, most of whom have walked this
journey called life with me long enough to know that birthdays have never
really been my thing.
And this year, on July 22, my
grandma passed away. I went from a
weekend of celebrating a life straight into a week of mourning a death.
But, “the Lord gives, and the
Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21b).”
If you had told me last year that
my grandmother would be dying so close to my birthday, I would have just added
it to the bitter list of reasons why I hated my birthday. But this year is different, because a life is
something to be celebrated – I know this now; and while a death is something to
be mourned in part, the ending of a life well-lived and grounded in Christ is
also something to be celebrated. It is
more a beginning than an end.
As I continue with my birthday festivities (as I fully intend to), I’m celebrating two birthdays now – my first
one and Grandma’s second one. So, Happy
Birthday, Grandma Chapman! I don’t mind
sharing a week in July with you one bit.
