Today we celebrated the birthday of my youngest grandson Benjamin. It was a wonderful day, even with the Birthday Boy's short-lived emotional breakdown upon discovering that it was his moment in the spotlight and he wasn't up for it. We enjoyed a leisurely dinner, lots of chatter (children's voices, yes, but adult voices too), yummy chocolate birthday cake (I was ready for birthday cake again), and a beautiful autumn day. I was particularly struck by Ben's siblings' wholehearted enjoyment of his special day. They comforted him through his breakdown, oohed and aahed at his gifts, delighted in singing "Happy Birthday" to him, touched him, talked to him, and giggled with him. It was a day of rejoicing.
This evening as we reflected on the day, we grew pensive.
Ron has been on vacation this week and so when he remarked about how fast time passes, at first I thought that he was thinking about returning to work tomorrow and how quickly his days off had passed. But then he said, "Doesn't it seem like such a short time since Kristin and Ryan were celebrating their first birthdays?" In an instant, I was remembering their first birthdays in vivid detail. Little red-haired Kristin (Benjamin's mama) in a little yellow romper with a bright yellow flower with a big green leaf...sitting on her knees...opening a present from her Gammy and Gampy and tossing the gorgeous dress with the hand-painted buttons over her shoulder to get to the two books that were also in the box...birthday cake with an icing kitty. Then little chubby-faced blonde-haired Ryan in navy sunsuit with a red sand pail on it...sober expression...being pulled around the kitchen in a Little Tikes red wagon by his two-year-old sister until she pulls too hard on the handle and dumps him out...birthday cake with a tiny train candle holder.
It really does seem like these days were yesterday. How can it be that they were many years ago?
The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away... so teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. ~ Psalm 90: 10, 12
Yes, teach me to number my days, Lord. Show me the brevity of life. Cause me to see the scope of eternity. For if I get a glimpse of the number of my days, then I will apply my heart unto wisdom. I will spend my time on things that are eternal, and not on the temporary. I will encourage the noble, and not settle for the ordinary.
How have I spent these days of my life? How will I spend the ones that remain? Oh that I may I "apply my heart unto wisdom."
I've been thinking about that over the past week as we prepared to celebrate Benjamin's birthday. How time passes, never to return.
ReplyDeleteAnd though it is not an eternal (like a human soul), having Brian sell his car last week-- the car that he bought while we dating and the car that we used as a family before Owen was born-- also sparked some thoughts. Left me an emotional wreck last night! :-)
And yet there is something cleansing about an emotional meltdown, isn't there? Wonder if Benjamin felt better after his yesterday? ;-)
ReplyDeleteYes, Benjamin was a happy, happy boy on Monday. Full of grins and giggles.
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