When I turned 12 there must have been a weird misalignment of the planets because my birthday came and went with scarcely a mention.
Seriously, it was like I was invisible or something!
Ok, boo hoo, I know. Get it all out now cause I’m okay with it. It’s amazing what 30 years of intense counseling and electro-shock therapy can do.
But there is one particular part of it that still makes me laugh to this day. You see, a week or so after the day (the ‘B’ day that is) my mother noticed that I was moping around a bit. I never said anything mind you, but mothers are perceptive in that way. So she decided to hit it head on.
“Is this about your birthday?” she inquired.
I sat up straight in the back seat of the car. Was this hideous oversight about to be corrected? Was this universally accepted wrong about to be righted?
No. Check out what happened next.
She said, “Rob, let me tell you what we were planning for this coming weekend. We were planning to give you a big surprise party. I just couldn’t wait tell then because you looked so miserable.”
I remember thinking, ‘Um, aren’t surprise parties supposed to be, well, you know—a surprise?”
Immediately, she saw the error of her ways.
“Well, maybe we’ll just have a regular party, but at least you know we didn’t forget you.”
In Psalms 66, the psalmist is adamant about faithfully fulfilling his vow to God and giving Him praise and worship as he was about crying out for help.
You see, his pleas for God to intervene were always loud and heartfelt. While, at the same time, let’s just say that his praise wasn’t quite as loud or nearly as adamant. Whenever he was in trouble he vowed to praise God if God bailed him out. However, his praise of the Lord (after rescue form hardship and turmoil) was never quite as loud (if it came at all) as the protests about God not intervening in the first place.
What’s louder for you? Your protests or your praise?
Oh, and the party? It never happened.
Does anyone know the number for a good counselor.