Perhaps the most difficult part of celebrating birthdays is coping with the idea that I am not of primary significance to any one person... and feeling selfish for expecting anything special. I don't know how I should feel about my birthday, if there's anything to be felt at all -- I do acknowledge a wound with a lot of reinforcement. As early as 1st grade, my friends found excuses not to attend my birthday party (the kid with the same birthday allegedly took it more personal if they didn't show, whereas I would "understand"). By the time I turned 25, only one of my birthdays had received any unsolicited attention from friends; it was easy to conclude that short of throwing myself a party, nobody would notice.
My most painful was #26: having turned the calendar during a youth worker convention, my acquaintances verbally demonstrated how annoyed they were with having their plans interrupted. We were in Dallas on the weekend of the Longhorn/Sooner rivalry game, thus every restaurant was packed, and the other leaders made it known they would rather order pizza than endure a crowd. Through debate and compromise, we eventually made our way to dinner, but the ordeal began again when one of the men suggested they should cover my meal. I wanted to scream loudly, "You know I'm sitting right in front of you!"
After this most recent slight, I decided to expect nothing at all. I asked my employers to schedule me for work and attempted to distract myself from anything capable of reminding me.
This is why the past 24 hours captured a surprisingly delightful of events. After being set up by another scheduled gathering gone bad (and wrestling through the disappointment of seven people bailing in a week), a few friends decided to meet me for wings and a game of cards. Nothing particularly enlightening transpired, but for one desiring quality time above all else, it was nice to be something other than an obstacle on everyone's schedule. God provided exactly what I desired.
