Bernie, Cheryl, and South India church leaders This isn’t to solicit your cards or presents (although, if that would make you happy, be my guest), but my birthday is coming up later this month. This has got me thinking, even in the midst of a major writing assignment whose deadline is bearing down upon me like a runaway train. Rather than continuing this charade—that I’m making good progress on my book today—I’ve decided to put that aside and write from my heart for a while.
Four years ago, at the end of our first agonizing year of living in Tokyo, we were celebrating my 49th birthday at a Chinese restaurant with friends. One of them queried, “What was the best thing about this past year?” I replied quickly and without even thinking, “Nothing.” And I meant it, too. All I could think about what how hard it had been to move to Tokyo after 21 years in Kobe. I had come to understand all too clearly why native Tokyoites had the reputation of being cold and unfriendly while folks in the Kansai were known for quick smiles and openheartedness. Frankly, I wasn’t happy at all about living here, and that melancholy infected everything—even my birthday party—like germs spewed out in an uncontrolled sneeze.
But my friend wouldn’t accept that answer. She called me on my miserable response and pitiful attitude and didn’t let me off the hook until I’d come up with at least one way God had blessed me during that year. Interesting thing was, once I got out of my rut and started looking at the positives, each good thing I recounted gave birth to another and another and yet another, until I was surprised to realize that, despite the very real difficulties I’d faced, it had indeed been a good year overall.
So here I am approaching another birthday. While it’s no longer painful to live in Tokyo (most of the time), I’ve discovered it’s still a very good practice to think back and contemplate the ways I am blessed. Here are three things at the top of my gratitude list this year:
1) I became a grandmother. Got a minute? I’d love to show you some pictures. I can’t get over the wonder of new life—always special, but in this case, we weren’t sure Stephanie could ever have a baby. So welcoming this perfectly formed little boy into our family was all the more breathtaking and miraculous.
2) I also got to participate in Little Ben’s birth. I rubbed Stephanie’s back so much during her long labor that I nearly wore a hole in her robe. I couldn’t take her pain away, but I walked with my baby girl as she gave birth to her baby. Although I consider myself something of a wordsmith, I am dumbstruck to describe this beautiful gift given to me.
3) Bernie and I visited South India together in April-May (just one of the reasons I’ve been unable to keep up with this blog). For the past five years, our work has taken us in different directions more often than it has brought us together. I can’t even begin to count the number of times in India that I thought, “At long last, Bernie and I are serving together again. I am so blessed.”
In just a few days I’ll be 53 years old. If my friend asks me, I know that once again I won’t be able to answer her question. But the reason is different this year. In this case, there have been just too many bests to choose only one.
