A mother holds a newborn close to her side and gazes at her child with awe, wonder, and thanksgiving. She is bonding with the child she had waited quite some time to hold. The moment is special because in her not-so-distant past she feared she could not have a child. All of those thoughts that haunted her are washed away, replaced with thoughts now directed toward her and her family’s future. Flooded with emotion, she prays. She thanks God for His generosity and faithfulness. Filled with the knowledge that her child will not be able to prevail under his own strength, she slowly lifts the child toward heaven and asks for God’s protection, and dedicates her son to the Lord that he would be used as God sees fit.
Though the scene described above has many similar details to the account of Hannah (1 Samuel 1 & 2), it is not. This story took place 45 years ago today in what was, at that time, a modern medical facility. Against the conventional wisdom of the era, the young mother was prompted to entrust her child first to God and then to the doctors. Soon after the mother prayed, her infant son was taken to a large nursery with many other children, and the new mom went to sleep with the assurance that God would be faithful to her prayer and protect her child.
Maybe by now you have figured out that I’m the child in the story, and that today I’m 45 years old. To some of you that seems ancient, and all I can say is, “Wait, your time will come.” If you happen to think that 45 is young from your perspective, all I can say is, “You are incredibly brilliant, wise, gifted, and above all else, honest!” Speaking of honesty, I know that a birthday cake with 45 lit candles looks more like a multiple alarm fire at a wax factory than like a dessert, but I’m looking forward to it because it’s fun. I’ve also been somewhat contemplative about this birthday. In many ways I’m surprised that I’ve been blessed with so many birthdays, considering some of the bad choices I’ve made over the years. But then I’m not surprised, because God has indeed been faithful to my mom’s prayer on my first day.
Lately, and especially today, God has reminded me of a passage from the Gospel of John involving Jesus and a breakfast at the seashore (John 21:1-14). There is a seemingly small detail in the story that stands out quite boldly to me today. Jesus is sitting by a fire of coals with fish and bread already laid on it when the disciples meet him at the shore after a night of fishing. It takes time for good coals to develop for a cooking fire – the implication is that Jesus has been there for some time preparing a meal and watching over the disciples. Though they reverted to their old life of commercial fishing (a bad choice), Jesus was there all along with the intent of feeding and taking care of those who were His. Even though the disciples were unaware of His presence while they fished unsuccessfully, He was aware of their presence and their hunger. Right now I am humbled by His faithfulness and overwhelmed at how little I comprehend His generosity; because not only was Jesus at the shore for those first disciples, He has also been at the figurative seashore of each of my bad choices, waiting for me to recognize Him and waiting to feed me, correct me, and use me.
Today, knowing that God stirred my mom to pray for me in my first hour, it is hard to miss that the prayer He placed in her heart was the best birthday gift I have ever received and the best gift she could ever give. So today, as I prepare to blow out forty-five candles, my wish and prayer is that you recognize Christ on whatever shore you find yourself. I pray that you eat the best meal you have ever had, with Jesus, at a fire that He lit long before you were born, and that He use you in His most extraordinary way. Even if today isn’t your birthday - Happy Birthday to you too!
Grace to you.
Dave Paukner
