Birthday Contemplation

"Happy Birthday, Daddy!" the kids told me this morning as if they didn't remember accusing, umm I mean wrongly concluding, that I turn 45 instead of 35 today. After all, what is one digit in the tens column? It is just a number, right? It is just being born in 1964 instead of 1974. It is just a decade. [On the subject of feeling 45 years old instead of the 35 years that I actually am, I will not comment here (smirk!)]

As is common, my birthday used to be the most important day of the year for me--or at least tied with Christmas, which was a "me" day all the same. Birthdays are not such a big deal anymore. By comparison, my anniversary is far more significant a milestone each year. For that matter, my wife's birthday is a far more brilliant day in the cosmic scene of things. And for that matter, my kids' birthdays are more highly decorated than my birthday as well. My birthday might rank somewhere near Groundhog Day (February 2) or Flag Day (June 14)!

"What do you want for your birthday?" went the conversation this birthday-eve. Sure, I want a pair of channel-lock pliers large enough to fix that PVC pipe fitting on the garden pond waterfall. Sure, I want a steak and potato on the grill. Sure, I want a camera that can actually do a decent job with depth-of-field aperture shots. But I would far rather save up any blessing that might come to me on "my" day and pass it along to my wife and kids. I can honestly say that I don't need anything more or want anything different for my brithday--I already have it in spades.

Anyway, such is my birthday contemplation. But, as it seems in my head as I write these sentiments, any contemplation about important days during my humble trips around the sun must esteem one day above the others; my death and re-birth day, when by faith I died with the Lord Jesus and in faith rose again in His resurrection ... the day God caused me to connect all these dots, confessing with my mouth that Jesus is Lord and believing in my heart that God raised Him from the dead resulting in salvation (Romans 10:9-10) ... the first Sunday in January 1991.

Pesky Patterns

Why does it have to be this way? Act I. In order to clean up the bedroom--I mean really clean it--we first have to make it messier. Out come the boxes and clutter from under the bed. The dust bunnies have to be herded into open before the vacuum can pull them into the corral. The winter clothes have to relinquish their hangers before the spring clothes have a spot in the closet. Two hours into the project, the bedroom is most definitely messier than it started. Granted two more hours later the bedroom looked and smelled great! But the pattern is a kick in the ribs--messier before cleaner.

Why does it cost money to save money? Act II. As a family, we decided to trim back on our utilities bill. The home phone is hardly used as our cell phones are always on, so off with that feature. The extra cable stations show nothing but infomercials, Texas Hold 'Em games (is that even a sport?!), and reruns of Hannah Montana, so off with that feature. The high-speed broadband Internet signal ... well ... two out of three is a good start, let's just leave that feature alone. [Anyway, the chances for family mutiny greatly increase with threats to tamper with the Internet connection.] But in chopping off those two features, we no longer qualify to get the "bundle" rate on Internet and basic cable so the savings per month were not nearly as deep as we hoped. And, on top of that, we also had to return the equipment the cable company was "loaning" us as a perk with the larger service package. So in the end, we had to pay $50 to save $60. The pesky pattern holds.

Why does spiritual growth require pain? Act III. We all want to grow in our spiritual maturity, but there is always destruction before there is construction. It is never just starting afresh and anew; there must be excavation of the heart and the mind, plumbing the depths of personal motives, confessing sin, and initiating conversations that have been long avoided. Two steps into the process and we are far more broken than we bargained. Faith says two steps more before we see any progress, but the pattern is easily disheartening; disheartening, that is, unless we doggedly keep the end result in sight.

Lord, answer me, demanded Job. But God's answer was too much for Job to stomach. Lord, show me Your glory, Moses prayed. But the glimpse unglued him. Lord, allow that my sons, James and John, sit at Your right and Your left. But the request was far too bitter for them to endure. Lord, please take this thorn in my flesh away, pleaded Paul in triplicate. But the removal of this pain would unravel so much that the Lord had already cultivated in Paul's heart and mind.

Were it not for the promise of the Lord's presence, none of us could bear this pesky pattern--brokenness yielding restoration, mourning yielding dancing, weeping yielding rejoicing. But we have a High Priest who not only knows this pattern theoretically from a distance. Our High Priest knows this pesky pattern experientially and so empathizes with all who follow Him through pain to paradise. Lord, please take this cup from Me ... not My will, but Yours be done.

Working Your Part

Good job, good job … in a close game an R.B.I. is just as good as a hit—applauded my daughter’s softball coach. Her teammates cheered in agreement, “Yeay, Emma!” Though narrowly thrown out at first base, she drove in a lead-changing runner from third base. It was marked down as a fielder’s choice in the box score, but Emma showed a question mark on her face. “Dad, what’s an R.B.I.?” she asked me through the chain link fence as I sat in the drizzle in a faded blue fold-out chair. This was her first at-bat in her first game in her first season of softball. “An R.B.I. is a run-batted-in … you forced the other team to make a throw to first base to get you out so that your teammate could score. In a close game, an R.B.I. is as good as a hit. You worked your part so the team could succeed.” “Oh.” The significance still hadn’t dawned on the rookie.

“Oh!” Working your part so the team could succeed—the significance still hasn’t fully dawned on the veteran either. The month of May brings many things—flowers, pollen, end-of-the-year testing, graduation, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day—but it also brings analogies for life from the ball field. Though most of us do not wear team jerseys anymore, we are still players on many teams: family, work, community, church, etc. Yet, do we often realize that our individual contribution plays a larger role in the team’s success? Our participation sets into motion, creates the space, offers the time, holds back the opposition so that success, growth, advancement, progress, unity can mark a run scored in the cosmic box score. It is never just a random at-bat that leaves no mark in the overall team experience—it is one of relatively few at-bats that causes the other team to expend the energy to pitch and catch, that elevates the pitch count, that weakens the pitcher’s arm for later innings, that could allow her fastball to lose some steam, that could allow another player make contact with a pitch she could not turn on in earlier innings, that requires the shortstop to have to run deep into the gap to field the groundball, that leaves her off balance so that her throw to first base is off-target, that allows the game winning runner to reach third, so that when a rookie approaches the plate for the first time her humble contribution scores the lead-changing run. There is great significance in working your part so the team can succeed.

Paul said it this way, “the whole body [think: ‘team!’], being fitted and held together by what every joint supplies, according to the proper working of each individual part, causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love” (Ephesians 4:16). “Oh.”

What is your part? What is your role? What is your contribution? What is your piece? Yours is not a random at-bat; it is one of relatively few that counts within the entire flow of the team and the conclusion of the game. Work your part so that the team can succeed. Individual stats are meaningless when compared to the end result of the team. “Wow!” May the significance fully dawn on all of us.

Kevin Rees, May 1, 2009