A promise for my birthday

I'm a little bit older and a lot less bolder than I used to be. I used to shake 'em down but now I stop and think about my dignity.  And now sweet sixteen's turned forty-one...  Yeah yeah, I know Mr. Seger's song actually says thirty-one but that doesn't work for me, seeing as how I'm turning forty-one today and all. 


I have the same big plans this year as last...back to back baseball games.  Little League games here take place on Tuesdays and Thursdays and since this is a leap year, I'm leaping right over a baseball-free birthday.  But it is all good because while I'd rather have a fork stuck in my hand than watch a pro game on t.v., I actually really do enjoy watching my babies boys play ball. 

I even occasionally give little shout outs like, good play!, good hit!, or good catch! even when it was not my child who made the play.  And to know me is to know how uncharacteristic such behavior is for me, the die hard introvert. I mean, I'm never going to be one of those moms who hoots, hollers, or grabs hold of the fence in order to yell insults at the umpires or coaches (because yes, I have seen it happen y'all, and it ain't pretty) but a supportive baseball mom, I am.


I haven't really given much thought to turning forty-one.  I mean, it seems like a pretty insignificant birthday when I think about last year's forty, the BIG 4-0.  But no birthday that grants us another year of life is ever really insignificant, is it?  I read a quote once that really struck a chord with me...Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many. I don't know who said it but oh how true it is.  


Each birthday we are blessed with, every age and page we turn, is a gift from God and a reminder that our mission on earth is not yet complete, that life has not yet molded us into the person we are meant to become, the one we came here to be.  


So on this day, the same one God saw fit to grant me life on forty-one years ago...


I promise to pause for a moment,


inhale the clean, fresh air he has given me to breathe,


hug the beautiful souls he has so carefully and purposefully placed in my life,


stroke the soft fur of the beloved four-legged, tail wagging friends he has entrusted me with,


drive down the road with my windows down, my hair in the wind and my radio up, while belting out the words to my favorite songs with the imperfect voice he has given only to me,


smile and encourage as I watch those ever-growing, ever-changing, ever-challenging, hard-headed boys he so graciously allowed to be my sons as they swing their bats, run the bases, and dirty up their ball pants, whether they strike out or hit a home run,


and just be grateful, be happy...content, yet open for his usefulness,


because today I have once again been blessed with a privilege denied to many...


Sweet sixteen has turned forty-one.