Plans and Providence: Reflections on Turning 38

Editor's Note: These are some thoughts I published on the Facebook while miserably sick on my birthday. 

It has been a delight to see so many kind birthday wishes rolling in from people all over the country today. Thank you all for making my day even sweeter!

A few folks have expressed hopes that I would receive my desires or enjoy a meaningful celebration today.

I can assure you I am having perhaps the most memorable birthday of my life today, through no planning of my own. And since I find myself with some downtime to fill, I shall share it with you, Dear Reader!

Here is how I expected today to go:

0430 - Rise for a workout with the incomparable Keith Fine at Fitrition.
0600 - Home for a refreshing shower, coffee, breakfast, and abundant affection from my sweet family.
0800 - A day of pleasant, productive, stimulating work at Kalos, Inc., writing code and spending time with people I deeply like and admire.
1630 - Leave for Lawrence with my splendiferous wife Magen to enjoy the world’s best nachos at Taco Zone and a Drew Holcomb concert with my dear friends and sibs, Joe and Jessie Hawkinson.
2300 or so (?) - Collapse into my bed, exhausted but sated with good things. Sleep with the windows open, hearing autumn noises, feeling the chilly breeze, and nestling gratefully under my down comforter.

Great plan, huh? Here’s what happened instead:

0230: Awake for no apparent reason.
0235: Intense intestinal discomfort.
0236: Disgusting Symptoms. Oh well, at least it’s not the Really Disgusting Symptoms.
0255: The Really Disgusting Symptoms.
0300 - Fitful rest and standup comedians on YouTube. Enjoy the repetition of the Symptoms many times.
0430, maybe? - Start calling in so trainer and job are aware.
0500 - Sleep! Praise Jesus!
0540 - Awake, Really Disgusting Symptom, sleep.
0730 - Awake, say goodbye to saintly wife who is removing all the children from our home.

“Sorry your birthday is ruined,” she says.

“It’s ok,” I say. “Not really into birthdays anyway. Just another day closer to my inevitable death.”

“You’re a mess,” she says. “But I guess being sick actually makes it easier to see your own mortality, so... it’s kind of a perfect gift for you.”

I laugh so hard that I soon find myself lunging toward the bathroom in order to prevent a Disgusting Symptom from getting all over my sheets.

0800 - Lie in bed watching Netflix, contemplating my mortality, and occasionally getting up to do various Symptoms.

And that is where I am even now, O ye persistent witness to my Symptom-redolent woes!

I normally try to avoid excessive pontification, but as the Bard says, “It’s my party and I’ll pontificate if I want to... you would pontificate too if it happened to you.”

Seriously, though, just a few thoughts before I go back to a fun-filled afternoon of vegetating and doing Symptoms:

1. I don’t often get a chance to sit around doing nothing all day. It’s kind of fun every once in a while.
2. I was struck by how much my birthday plan resembles a normal day. What delight and beauty and joy and health I often overlook!
3. My death truly is approaching. I dwell in a mortal body, and this makes me want to live life to the fullest. It also makes me look forward to the New Creation and the redemption of my body. Come, Lord Jesus.
4. At Hutchmoot, a feast that I had the privilege of attending last week, someone reminded me, “God always gives what we need when we need it.” That, more than anything else, has been the theme of this year for me. I both believe it and truly thank the Lord for this disgustingly providential opportunity to believe it better.

So, the short answer, and one without any hint of irony: It’s been a great birthday so far, and my deepest longings are being fulfilled.

Chaos, Order, and Creation

It has been a hard week at the LuapHacim home.

Our one-year-old has been -- to put it delicately -- disposing of his stomach's contents more rapidly than is his custom. Much more rapidly. Out of both ends.

Our nearly-three-year-old has been making his first essays into the exciting world of The Potty ("All aboard the Potty Train! Choo choo!"), with a fairly good success-to-failure ratio. Outliers still exist, however.

And the night before last, their mother became violently ill. This has lasted a couple of days so far.

So, between scrubbing "accidents" out of Lightning McQueen underwear, disinfecting vomit-encrusted mattresses, and doing more loads of laundry than you can shake a stick at, I have been quite occupied.

Nonetheless, my existence has not been some toil-laden, grim, unending scene from Upton Sinclair's The Jungle.

I took the older boy to the library, put up Christmas lights in his room, and had sweet cuddles with the younger boy (after giving him several extremely necessary baths). Since my wife has not been eating much, I made myself a nice lentil curry last night. (She does not normally prefer curry.) I even watched a few episodes of a favorite TV show and read a good chunk of The Non-Designer's Design Book, by Robin Williams (not that Robin Williams).

All of it -- the sickness,  the laundry, the bathing of small children, the cleaning, the cooking, the reading -- made me ponder the joy of creating order out of chaos.

I came home from work yesterday much earlier than I had planned, since my wife was incapacitated and the children were needy. Toys were strewn, toddler-style, throughout most of the livable space in the house. Dishes were stacked in the sink, vomit and fecal stains were abundant, and I was the only one who could make it better.

So, from the disorder, I was forced to weave something better. The toys went to their homes. The messes were cleaned up. The defiled places were disinfected. Little by little, chaos retreated and order was restored.  And when that happened, I felt myself re-energized. It felt like I had accomplished something significant.

I was reminded of Genesis 1, where God creates the world. Bit by bit, He forms light, land, the heavens, plants, animals, and people. He sees the work of His hand and recognizes that it is very good. My Bible's notes tell me that the Hebrew word  for "create" in Genesis 1:1 is בָּרָא (bara’), which often means forming anew, reforming, or renewing (see Ps 51:10; Isa 43:15, 65:17).

I think the desire and ability to remake our surroundings are some of the most important signs that we are created in God's image. We clean things up, we put them in order, we drive out the chaos and confusion, and we embellish our work with some Christmas lights and lentil stew, or perhaps a world of stunning biodiversity (depending on our skill level).

Like the Almighty, when our work is done, we behold it and recognize that it is very good.