Birthday aftermath reflections…

Cam wandered into our room at 6:00 am on the morning of his birthday. We started singing ‘Happy birthday’ and his face broke into the beam of the century. He immediately asked, ‘Can I have my tumble dryer cake now?!’ He was super excited about his party cake, a Grandpa-carved, ice-cream-sculpted version of his most favourite household item. I’m sure there are folks who think we are the weirdest parents. But we just figured: he’s three. He can have any cake he likes! And for some reason he just loves laundry appliances.

His presents from family and friends were all a real hit (‘Let’s open up the presents and see what’s inside!’), particularly his drum (‘I’m going to take my drum to church!’), his tent (‘Can I hide in it?’), his trumpet, his umbrella and his fireman’s helmet. We’ve all spent a lot of time in the tent over the past couple of days, and all his new things have been dragged into it one by one!

He had a party at school in the morning, complete with a crown and balloons from his lovely teacher, and then his party at home in the afternoon… The fun never sets!?

With Cam, Murray and me all celebrating our birthdays three days in a row, I am utterly caked out! But we had a marvellous, special week. Celebration can be intense, and yet in Scripture God commands his people over and over to feast and celebrate and rejoice – for days on end! There’s something in it. We’re wired to celebrate – warmly and fuzzily. I think it’s part of what makes us human, part of our reflection of God’s image, part of our calling to magnify him and display his glory.

(More quietly, and with less cake, we also celebrated eight hours of neat, undiluted sleep last night. A decadent luxury! The boys slept over at their cousins’ house. J)

Here’s a prayer that a colleague sent to me. Nice for our biggest boy in the week he turned three. 

Build me a son, O Lord,
who will be strong enough to know when he is weak;
and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid;
one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat,
and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds;
a son who will know Thee -
and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort,
but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge.
Here let him learn to stand up in the storm;
here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear,
whose goal will be high,
a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men, one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his,
add, I pray,
enough of a sense of humour,
so that he may always be serious,
yet never take himself too seriously.
Give him humility,
so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness,
the open mind of true wisdom
and the meekness of true strength.

Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, "I have not lived in vain!"