This is an excerpt from Elisabeth Elliot, my favorite author/inspiration. It says exactly how I feel about having another birthday (yesterday I turned 57)!
I'm not the least bit bashful about telling my age. I'm glad for every birthday that comes, because it is the Lord, my faithful Guide, who "summoned the generations from the beginning." I look in the mirror and see the increasingly (and creasingly) visible proofs of the number of years, but I'm reconciled. Christ reconciles me to God and to God's wonderful plan. My life is his life. My years are his years. To me life is Christ, and death is nothing but gain. When I remember that, I really can't think of a thing I ought to be afraid of. I can't be sorry I'm a year older and nearer to absolute bliss.
I pray for you on your birthday, that your path, as is promised to the just man, will shine not less and less but more and more; that you will still bring forth fruit in old age; that the Lord will give you a thankful heart like the psalmist's who sang,
O God, thou hast taught me from boyhood,
all my life I have proclaimed thy marvellous works:
and now that I am old and my hairs are gray,
forsake me not, O God....
Songs of joy shall be on my lips;
I will sing thee psalms, because thou has redeemed me.
All day long my tongue shall tell of thy righteousness.
(Psalms 71:17, 18, 23, 24 NEB)
