Birth

My mother and Dad were missionaries when I was born. They had been “away from home” for about four years. I don’t remember much about it, but they always reminded me that a  particular Scripture was “true” regarding my birth. Psalm 22:10. It says this – “I was given over to You at birth, You have been my God from my mother’s womb.”

I have tried to never forget that. I suppose there have been times when I felt that “pull” in my life was hindering me from enjoying some of the “pleasures of sin.” My dad was a strict disciplinarian, memorizing Scripture early on in my years was mandatory, and attending Church was a “given.” Now, some 70 years later, as I spend a few moments on this day taking time to look back, I see some things, maybe most things, more clearly than otherwise might have been.

One thing I see is numbers of people who have crossed my life’s path. Some for brief periods of time, others for longer periods. Some I don’t remember real well, others – I can never forget. Each one has made a particular impact in my journey. On my most recent stop at Church I had some friends I met 40 years ago wander in to say hello. On that same morning, one of my newest friends gave me a hug, said I meant much to him, and I knew he has already impacted my life in a wonderful manner.

In between there are so many whose life God has allowed me to enter. On occasion there has occurred an intertwinement that will never end. With some, there has been, because of my failures no doubt, a flame-out that perhaps will never be rekindled. But every single individual has been vital, real, needed, appreciated, valued, and contributory to who I am today.

It is the work of God in our life – this crossing of lives in an alien world. I am aware of a growing longing in me for all of us to be together with that one who has been my God from my mother’s womb. There my failures will be gone, our joy will be complete, and we can finish what we’ve started.