January 2, 2014

if wishes were horses ....

This month marks the 40th year since I was born.

I will have completed four decades of living.  My Farmer asks me, this morning, to think about what I'd like, for my birthday.  Tears spring to my eyes.  I know what I'd like:


The ability to laugh at fear and the future because of the strength of my confidence in the One who holds it all secure in His hand.

Or even just an understanding of what I need to do to take care of myself and my most important relationships.  And the courage to do it.

{You'll notice "patience" is not on the list.  That was the first virtue I started praying for, when I was eighteen.  For over two decades God has been offering me opportunities to develop it, and I can't say that I've seen much improvement.}

But my Farmer can't give me those things for my birthday (much as I'm sure he'd love to see me receive them); no one can.  So instead I'll ask for trinkets - and I'll smile outside to unwrap them, while my insides ache at all I lack.

I used to think that by 40 I'd be grown up, mature by 50, and wise by 60.

But then, I used to think a lot of things ....

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

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