Okay, so I am guessing the question above is fairly easy for most of us to answer. We know the day our mothers gave birth to us. My mom tells the story every year to me whether I ask for it or not. I can always count on her calling me, singing happy birthday, and reminding me for the umpteenth time about how she was in labor for 24 hours and how Dad took a snooze cause the nurse told him it would be a while and … yeah, I won’t bore you with the details. I suppose after going through the pain of child birth for 24 hours I allow her the right to tell that story to whomever is listening. Hey, I’m just glad my dad has stopped spanking me the number of years I am. If I do recall, I’m pretty sure he tried it once after I had turned 30, and it was just … umm … yeah.
Well, I’m seeing my mom this morning and again for ice cream later this evening. On one of those two occasions I’m sure I’ll get the story again because today, 38 years ago to be exact, I was born through one of God’s greatest miracles. The miracle of childbirth will forever be humankind’s to cherish, and if you’ve never experienced seeing it or going through it yourself, trust me–it is absolutely beautiful. And yes, from what I’ve heard, slightly painful too. Had to throw that one in there for my female followers. But isn’t it worth it, ladies? To know a small infant, one of God’s most amazing if not THE most amazing creation, came from your own body … it is breathtaking. That moment will forever be in my mother’s heart, and I grant her full rights to tell that story to whomever she wants. She earned it.
Even though I will be receiving a few gifts today from close friends and family, I wonder. I wonder if I am truly 38 years old. Well, sure, biologically I am 38. That’s the birthdate I put on all the forms I fill out, but spiritually I am merely one. It was only a little over a year ago on February 9, 2013 that I was baptized in the name of Jesus Christ at my church. If you go by that date, holy smokes, I’m a toddler! I’m a 38-year-old toddler able to grow a five-o-clock shadow of a beard if I refrain from shaving for a day! Tell me another toddler that has two kids, a job, a beautiful wife, and a blog … sheesh, I’m one of a kind! No, in all sincerity, although I celebrate my birthday today, I wonder whether I should celebrate that other day back in February as well. After all, I was born again.
I suppose to the unreached that might sound a little silly. They might even call me an extremist. Loco. Off his rocker. Weirdo. But to a Christian, to a true follower of Christ, this might sound intriguing. 2 Corinthians 5: 17 states, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” In John 3: 5-7 it says, “Jesus answered, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, you must be born again.'” If I take the Bible at its word, which every Christian should do by the way, I was indeed born a SECOND time last year. Spiritually. Talk about a day worth celebrating!
Will I choose to not celebrate today anymore? Nah. I mean, to deny my mother the privilege of sharing the story of my birth would just be wrong. And do you know what, I hope she tells that story till her last day because she’s done an amazing job raising me into the man I have become today. I’ll still celebrate June 24th for that reason. But I wonder. Should I be blowing out candles in February as well? Does anyone out there do that? Or am I just cray-cray as my students would say? Oh well, the thought is there. That is all that matters now I suppose. Time for this 38-year-old toddler to get his day started by feeding his little ones breakfast and taking them off to swim lessons. And yes, my good old mom promised to be there to see the boys and to wish me a happy birthday … oh yes, and to tell that story of my birth. After all, it wouldn’t feel right without it.