“Is it time to sing the birthday song and eat cake?”
Isley had meticulously placed candles on her Aunt Melody’s cake. She’d helped me light them, guiding my hand with the matches. Only a few burned fingers. All mine.
The only thing on Isley’s fingers was frosting.
We stood around my daughter, home for a brief round of meetings, celebrating her birthday. Early. Because we could.
This was my daughter, my little girl. A grown woman now. Someone I not only deeply love but admire and respect. Someone I enjoy and find fascinating. Someone I truly like.
Why do we not take more opportunities to celebrate the people we truly love and appreciate?
There are birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving and a variety of other holidays that demand celebration. Times to remember special days. Special people.
But what about those days that don’t have pretty squares on the calendar? The ones that are normal. Typical.
So many wondrous things happen on typical days.
Writing your name all by yourself day.
Just glad to be alive day.
There are so many reasons to celebrate.
I want to celebrate well. I want to be one who finds joy in the moments. In the typical.
Because I’ve been celebrated.
As I watched Melody laughing with those around the table, I marveled at how much I enjoy my family. How much I love having them in my life.
I know I’m fortunate. I recognize the incredible blessing that my family is. I don’t take that for granted.
Because not every day is filled with the desire to celebrate. There are days it’s hard to see the joy. Days where pain and disappointment overshadow any light of hope. Days of darkness rather than days of light.
By the One who made me.
“He reached down from heaven and rescued me; He drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemies, from those who hated me and were too strong for me. They attacked me at a moment when I was in distress, but the Lord supported me. He led me to a place of safety; He rescued me because He delights in me.” 2 Samuel 22:17-20
When I’m floundering, God is there. When I’m overwhelmed by my circumstances, God is there. When I feel bullied by those who would hurt me or demean me, God is there. Reaching down.
Because He delights in me. Not because of anything I’ve done. Or can do.
So I’ll celebrate Melody–that’s a joy and a privilege.
And I will remind myself each day that I’m celebrated by One who knows me intimately–warts and all–and that I’m loved.
That’s worth at least a cake.