I have a confession to make—I don’t care much about my birthday. It’s too close to Christmas and New Year’s Day. Oh, it’s okay as long as there’s not much fuss involved. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when my Facebook friends send me greetings; I get to laze around in my jammies that extra hour or so; and my family buys a cake and takes me to dinner.
And I can usually get Craig to go to the grocery store for me (Heaven!).
But that’s it. That’s a perfect birthday.
Okay, maybe there’s a little bit more to my birthday indifference than its proximity to other major holidays. Maybe it’s all that almost-subconscious introspection which inevitably happens around January 1st.
I know, I know! Introspection isn’t necessarily a dirty word, but mine is the devil incarnate. He sounds something like this:
1. You’re forty-nine, have a good mind, and many advantages but haven’t made anything of your life.
2. You spend too much time with your head in a frivolous book instead of interacting with the people around you.
3. You’re ageing, you need to lose five pounds, and you’re ugly.
4. Your writing is a joke, but no one will be honest and tell you to stop.
5. You’re a lackadaisical parent, wife, sister, adult child, friend, etc., and about your spiritual life. In fact, you aren’t a good role model.
6. What’s the hold up on training your pet to be perfect?
7. Keep your mouth shut—you’re not helping anyone, you sound like an insensitive boor, and an idiot to top it off.
8. When will you ever finish that book?
9. You’re not capable of homeschooling an academically gifted child.
10. Why aren’t you making sure your sixteen-year-old student driver drives more?
11. Those girls you work with at church…they don’t like you. In fact, no one likes you—they feel sorry for you and tolerate you.
12. You’re a quitter.
That last one…that’s a biggie for me. In fact, they all are.
Okay, I needed a good cry on my birthday, didn’t I? It hurts to admit I have thoughts like these because it’s so real, so out there, so fragile, so embarrassing.
So raw.
So guilty.
But God didn’t make me to be closed-up. He didn’t make me to hide myself away. He didn’t create me to have closed eyes to myself, or the lies I sometimes tell myself.
Lies like knives that pierce my soul with uncanny precision.
Lies like these.
It’s quite a list, isn’t it?
Yet I resist them, and I’ll continue to resist the lies to my last breath. Because I would ten times rather speak the truth about myself than wallow in the dirt, guilt and shame of that ludicrous list. It’s ridiculous!
God created me after all.
And I was introduced to the world forty-nine, overflowing life-filled years ago.
So with some divine help, I’ll turn that List o’ Lies on its head. Here we go:
1. I’m forty-nine, have a good mind, and many advantages. Watch out world!!
2. I’m a person who needs down time. I’ll probably live a lot longer because I give myself margin.
3. I’m gorgeous (Okay, I got this from one of my Facebook friends, Stacey Mc. She says we’re all gorgeous, and she’s right. So I plan on owning it.).
4. Being able to creatively express myself is a gift from God.
5. I’m a loving, fairly consistent and conscientious parent, wife, sister, friend, etc. And I’m working on the adult child and spiritual growth. It’s called sanctification, people.
6. I give my pet a caring home—I think she’s perfect in her imperfections.
7. I should speak truth with respect and sensitivity to my friends and family.
8. I’ll get back to the book soon. I need to give myself a break because I’m in a busy season of life.
9. I’m blessed to have the challenge of homeschooling my bright child, and it’s okay if he teaches me a few things along the way.
10. I had Super Girl drive home from Barnes and Noble two days ago. There were some tense moments, but what a great metaphor for parenting in general. ;)
11. I deserve love, and I’ve been blessed with many people who love me. I’ve learned my ministry isn’t about myself, and I feel things are going boatloads better this year. After all, we've loosened up with each other enough to make all kinds of teen girl-centric, inappropriate jokes.
12. I may take breaks, but I finish the tasks that are important. The others were either icing or so unnecessary it’s acceptable to forget them.
How’s that? I’m not crying anymore.
Even better, I’m all ready to go, get dressed (still in my jammies) and face the world on this birthday that I now predict to be a fantastic day.
Craig walked in not long ago with the strawberry cake, btw.
Happy Saturday, January 4th, everyone, and if you have a List o' Lies, please (I beg you.) turn it on its head, too.
P.S. I bet you were wondering how to tactfully text me psychologist recommendations. Someday, I might need them but not today. Writing is great therapy, right? I need to do it more. ;)
No, my cake's not oval, but I need to stop fussing over this post.