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Today . . .



My age says I should no longer hold lengthy conversations
about the greatest moments in The Muppets repertoire,
consort with Smurfs,
or linger over trinkets in a bargain bin 
marked with Mr. Men and Little Miss.  

My age implies thoughts should angle 
toward savings bonds, health insurance, 
mortgages, property value.

My age insists the time to feel care-free and fresh 
is past -- now is time
for my childlike soul to run on fumes until
it just gives out, pulls over, and waits to hitch another ride, 
eventually the first part of the trip 
disappearing in the distance of a rear-view mirror.

Today I am 30.  
And what once made me a tad anxious, 
now makes me proud.  

Three decades under the belt, a fourth
just beginning.  The first three were practice anyway . . . 
the fourth offers a chance to take what was good 
and polish it up for the next run.  
The chance to take what was bad, hold it close and nurture
out the pain 
and failure --
hold it closer,
until a soft wash of peace gives it wings
and
it no longer needs me.

Today I will not hate myself for the things I should not have done,
the things I have yet to do.  
Today I will love myself 
for all that I am, all that I have been, and all 
that I have the opportunity to become.  

Every other day is a day of
self-wreckage,
self-doubt,
self-persecution.
But today I will quietly celebrate myself 
with silent songs of praise and subtle 
adulations, keeping the embers
of my childlike soul burning,
with no fears of childishness.

Today I will focus on the creation God has always meant for me 
to be and love.  Today I will see the promise
that exists beyond my own "knowingness."  
Today will be a day for remembering
all that I have, not all that I lack.   A day for recalling
the fullness, not the emptiness.  

Today will be a day of thankfulness . . . . 
a day to see God's graces, 
no matter how small.
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