I never remember my birthday. In fact, I often forget what day it is on (is it the 28th or 29th?) and how old I am. In this moment I can't remember if I'm 34 or turning 34 on my next birthday.
I'm not afraid of knowing my age or aging. Its just that celebrating a birthday seems so...ugh, lame. It seems like the equivalent to celebrating a climb up Mount Everest when you've just landed in Nepal. Now I admit that children's birthdays are important. My son is really a different person than he was a year ago. And a year from now. But that drastic change does slow down eventually. We never stop changing but we don't learn a new language every year, right? I remember when I was nine years plus 364 days and thinking that once I hit those double digits I would be so grown up. Now, I don't know what I was expecting (a beard?) but the next morning I ran in to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and, shock of all shock, I looked exactly the same.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm not afraid of aging. I would gladly tell you my age if you asked (and if I could remember it). Its not something to be embarrassed by. For anyone. Unless we're not acting our age. But that is subjective and less confining than most think it is. Age gives you experience. Experience is the strength of age (Proverbs 20:29) Stories of the aged are carriers of wisdom for the young. The young have physical strength but listen to their stories much and, well wisdom is often in short supply. But nothing is so unfortunate as grey hair and wisdomless stories. Age gives opportunity for wisdom but no guarantee.
I am a young parent (not much experiential wisdom), but one thing I see that disturbs me are fathers who are afraid to tell their stories. Often, and understandably, this is the case when they have stories of failure or sin. But those are where the lessons are like the leagues of the sea. Deep, if you didn't catch that.
One friend of mine who was of the the age when stories were made and not yet told liked to party at night yet had to work hard in the fields by day. He found that the proper application of his T-shirt around his neck would cause him to um, " fall asleep" for a few seconds and trick his body into thinking it had slept for hours. And then, being well rested, he could work like an ox. Clearly not a story you would relate to your seven year old but one you could tell your 17 year old. And the moral of the story being that partying to hard makes choking yourself seem like a reasonable endeavor. Some stories are age appropriate.
There are two stories that Ethan will hear from his grandfather and I. Stories of fighting. Or not fighting. From my dad comes the story of a bully who taunted him on the way home from school. My dad, ever the lover not fighter, stepped aside as the bully let fly a punch which was thrown powerfully enough to propel the antagonista into a muddy puddle. Moral of the story: You don't have to play by the rules and square off. Sometimes doing nothing reveals the foolishness of your opponent. And that you don't have to fight to be a man.
From me comes the story of the youth group bully who went around picking on and intimidating the weak and frail (me) at the youth lock in. As he attempted to get me into the umpteenth headlock and gut punch combo of the night I stepped aside and lifted my foot in a kicking fashion, connecting in a location that convinced the bully in the error of his ways. Moral of the story: There is a time for everything. And the timing of a kick is important. And that sometimes you have to fight when your a man.
The Bible tells stories with little tenderness for faults. And we shouldn't balk at that when it comes to the stories we tell. Especially of ourselves. From stories about me Ethan will know that listening to his wife and being tender to her fears could keep his house from foreclosure. He'll know that hard work always pays off but not always in the paycheck. He'll know that even when he messes up as a teen he will always be loved by his dad because his dad remembers those years well.
And he'll know to remember those stories of failure and victory and to tell his children. And that birthdays are no big deal unless they mark years of wisdom gained.
