birthday

Sunday, July 01, 2007 T: 14 20

Today is my birthday. I only realize this much later than others. My mother and aunt gave me something, but I thought the gifts were given in advance. It is only in church it finally dawned on me that today’s the 1^st of July. I guess birthdays never hold much significance for me, that the actual one is after all a long time ago. I’m thankful nevertheless for friends who remember, who reminded me of this anniversary.

It seems not too long ago I was a primary one kid calculating the possibility of myself growing to be as tall as the adults that often stand over me, when I was a child playing with soft toys and toy cars. I can’t help wondering if I have grown up to be the person I wanted to be. I doubt so. Looking back, I have never been the loyal friend, the good brother, the filial son, the attentive student I aspire to be. Neither have I been the faithful Christian I desired to be.

I asked myself why I am always quick to anger, and yet slow to forgive. Why am always complaining, lamenting, and not helping? Why am I always criticizing, scolding, but seldom complimenting, praising? Why am I always writing in hope of inspiring others, but could not even teach myself in the first place? Why am I always irritated with children, when I am the fool who is obsessed with worldly possessions? How dare I even consider myself more superior than some, before realizing that I could never have done it better either? Why am I quick to hate, to despise, but slow to love, to care? Why do I look at the speck of dust in the eyes of others without first seeing the plank in mine? Why do I always assume, jump to conclusions without first putting myself in the shoes of others, and consider the predicament that others are in? How dare I judge others, comment on others, without even getting my facts right? So much for the Christian love that I often write about! Am I not no better than a hypocrite?

Can I proclaim sincerely that I care nothing for the words of men, for the earthly possessions in this world?

The beauty of the doctrine of predestination which I believe in is that He has chosen me, adopted me, despite my unworthiness. In a way, there is thus full assurance of faith. If so, how much have I really done in gratitude?

To me, the birth of a wretched fool 19 years ago is really nothing much to commemorate about. ‘There is nothing in me that I can boast in, except for my own disgrace, for it is my weak self that displays the power of God’s grace.’

Maybe someday like Isaiah, I might catch a glimpse of His majesty.