Learning to Make Our Moments Matter as Time Ticks by
After you hit the proverbial hill and are coasting in the downhill thirty-something slalom, you seldom want anyone to recognize your birthday – you just don’t want everyone making much to- do about nothing. But kids love birthdays, and if you have a birthday when you have kids, they are likely going to remind you. Mine always does.
The two of us sat playing MonopolyâÂ?¢, watching home-makeover shows, and munching on pizza – the kind I like, with light sauce and lots of mushrooms (Cissy demanded that I pick what kind, since it was my birthday.)
My little girl, still exuberant from her sixth birthday less than a week before, seemed a bit disheartened that we didn’t go back to Chuck E. CheeseâÂ?¢ to celebrate mine. She was confused by my lack of enthusiasm, and she seemed genuinely surprised that grown-ups even have birthdays to begin with.
“How old are you now, Mommy?” she asked, with pizza sauce and cheese drippings making greasy little fingerprints on her wad of blue and green paper MonopolyâÂ?¢ money.
“I’m 33,” I answered.
Her eyes swelled as big as quarters, and she coughed as if the thought of someone living that long was inconceivable. I suppose that when you’ve just turned six, ages you can’t even count to yet must seem quite ancient.
I wasn’t sure if it was her quarter-sized eyes of astonishment, or what she said next, that most insulted me.
“You’re as old as Jesus, Mom,” she announced, still munching pizza and buying little red houses.
She caught me completely off guard, as children have a knack for doing.
Cissy explained that she had learned from Miss Cindy, her children’s church teacher, that Jesus died on the cross when He was 33 – the same age as me.
After she explained herself, I was a lot less insulted and actually quite impressed with her remembering this detail from way back at Easter time. It reminded me how blessed we are with wonderful teachers in a wonderful church. But, even more than that, it made me think for a moment about something much bigger than birthdays, which come and go.
When I stop to think about it, my 33 years on the earth have not amounted to as much as I would like. I’ve done some good things, some bad things, and had plenty of days when I did nothing at all. But, if I had to step out of my life right now, as Jesus did – especially for the sake of people who hate and mock me – I don’t know that I’d be ready to go just yet.
There are many things I want to accomplish, many people I should be witnessing to, and many ways I need to grow closer to God before I go. So, while I might actually be “as old as Jesus,” I’ m certainly nowhere near the same as Him.
He took as many breaths on the earth as I have, but He accomplished so much more. In fact, He accomplished so much in His short 33 years that John tells us “If they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.” (John 12:25, KJV).
On the contrary, I’m sure my life story would fit comfortably into one of those 32-page tabloids you see at the checkout stands – and in many ways would probably be just as absurd as the stories they contain.
My daughter rolled the dice and moved her pawn, and the game went on. I landed on “Chance” and found myself retrieving a “Get Out of Jail Free” card. And, I smiled at the irony of the moment.
I’m not as sinless, as forgiving, as faithful, as honest, or as kind as He was; but at least it gives me something to strive for before my next birthday. I may have gone over the hill a couple of years ago, but my life now has more purpose as I remember another 33-year-old making a walk up a lonely, fatal, hill on my behalf.
I don’t mind being “as old as Jesus,” and I’m hoping that every day brings me just a little closer to being more like Him.
