I am older than God. Accepted historical and Christian tradition says that Jesus was crucified at 33 years of age and ascended to heaven 42 days later. Jesus was God. Today, I turn 34 years old. Ergo, I am older than God. It makes logical sense, trust me.
They say it’s my birthday today. I wouldn’t really know, because although I was present for the first one, I was zero years old. I did not posses quite the steel trap I do currently. But for the sake of everyone else. I will have to believe them. It seems silly to think that they would lie about something as trivial as which day I experienced my maternal evacuation. Also, my skin is beginning to show bear witness to it’s 34 solar orbits. I have a complex mathematical formula involving wrinkles, moles, hue, and sensitivity to sharp objects – and my results come out right at 34 years. You can’t argue with sound science.
I thought about making a list of 34 pieces of advice – one for each year – for you to read (don’t do drugs, always wash after using the facilities, etc.). I don’t think I could make it 10 before you’d want to stop reading and I’d be making things up. I thought about sharing my 34 favorite quotes (milk was a bad choice, if you can dodge a wrench you can dodge a ball) – but to be truthful, I’d just be searching the internet to find stuff after about 3. I thought about listing 34 things that I am thankful for (my wife, my kids, my 40 extra pounds) – but your list is the same as mine. I thought it might be fun to ask for 34 friends to say 34 nice things about me in the comment section (this exercise is still very much an option for you). But then I imagined how I’d feel if that didn’t happen. So I’m not going to do any of those things.
Instead, I just want to write two words. Keep going. If I’m honest, birthdays aren’t as great as they used to be for me, because instead of presents and parties, they now tend to remind me of my mortality, and cause anxiety. But that’s ok. I’m going to keep having them. Because my reality has been that it’s not so much the day which remembers my birth that matters – but it’s all the days I have in between them.
Dinners around the table with my wife and kids. Small group with my friends from church. Bike rides with my brother. Catching a movie with a friend. Napping on the couch with the windows open during a thunderstorm in July. These are the things that make birthdays worth it now. These are what gives me life. These are my gifts from God.
They say it’s my birthday. 34 times over. Older than God. Never been happier about it.