Prepare yourself for a sentimental blog post…
Today is my birthday. I am 29 years old.
Typically on my birthday – especially in the morning – I find myself reflecting on the previous year. What did I accomplish when I was 28? Well, I got married, switched churches, went on a trip, a bunch of other stuff… And what’s next? What do I want to accomplish when I’m 29?
But I’m not really thinking about that today.
Instead, I’m thinking about the very fact that I am alive. That I exist. Came from nothing, now here. Spent 28 years developing strong hands, bad posture, good friends, bad habits. Spent an eternity in the mind of God.
I guess I’m feeling grateful for life because my brother and sister-in-law just had a baby ten days ago. Little Arjen Bradt. And he is the most precious and beautiful creature there ever was. I’m overwhelmed with the idea that he came from nothing and is now here.
This short blog post is just to say that this morning I’m not really caring about my birthday, but the fact of birth itself. My birthday gift isn’t the bottle of delicious port that my brother gave me or the curling iron my mother gave me or the beautiful flowers from Andrew (although I love those things, and thank you guys!). My birthday gift is just being here this morning, having one more year.