It’s not often I agree with comedian Joan Rivers, but in this I most certainly do: “Looking fifty is great… if you're sixty.” On my 50th birthday, ten years ago, a kind soul looked at me and said, “You’re turning 50!? You sure don’t look like it!” At the time, I assumed what she meant was that I looked a little younger than the half century milestone, but now that I think about it, you never know.
Anyway, I’ve heard nothing of the kind a decade later. Nowadays I’m agreeing with an anonymous quipster who felt that “time may be a great healer, but it’s a lousy beautician.” I look in the mirror and am often startled to see my mother’s image staring blankly back at me. Wrinkles show up unbidden for a visit and stubbornly refuse to take a hike. And nobody, but nobody thinks I naturally know that blonds indeed have more fun!
50 years old didn’t seem that big a deal to me, but 60, well, 60 doesn’t seem quite possible. Why, I can still see me sitting quietly in crotchety Miss Linney’s 2nd grade class! My 7th grade self continues to toot my clarinet in the junior high band! Bernard Baruch felt that old age was always 15 years older than he was, but my goodness – that means in a decade and a half I’ll be halfway to octegenaria (should the Lord grant, of course)!
Good thing March 18 isn’t my only birthday. I have two, you know. My mom faithfully took me to Sunday School and church when I was little, and there I learned that Jesus was God’s One and Only Son Who came to earth to save me from my sins. At five years old I was well aware that I had them, that I did them, that I thought them. I believed that if I confessed them to Jesus He would forgive them, wash them away, and make me as clean as if they had never, ever been. I knew that then I would be part of God’s family and one day I would live with Him in heaven. So, that is what I did, and more importantly, that is what He did. That was my second birthday, my spiritual birthday. Later, as a junior high school student, I came to a deeper, fuller understanding of the decision I had made as a young child and I rededicated my life to Christ.
Many people know the exact date of their spiritual birthday. I wish I did, but I don’t. I do, however know without a shadow of a doubt that I have one, and that is what counts. What I related to you in the previous paragraph is the condensed version of my “faith story” or my “testimony” as they used to say – the story of how I came to place my faith in Jesus Christ.
Some people say that because their story isn’t full of drama and excitement, they don’t really have good one. But if you know Christ as your Savior, there has to have been a time when you confessed your sins and asked Him to save you. Whenever it was, wherever it was, however it was – that’s your story, a good story, as only you can tell it (and it might help someone else if you did tell it!). Happy birthday to me and to you – I hope you have two!
