Birthday, baptism, band-aids, barf, and the blessings of God

Sorry for the crass title, but it fit with the alliteration. Here's what I mean.

On Saturday, I celebrated my 32nd birthday. It's amazing how old that used to sound, but I'm comfortable with that now... Anyway, my wonderful wife who is still recovering from child birth started my day off right--she let me sleep in! What a day I thought as I got out of bed around 9 am. We had scheduled a Chi Alpha baptism for noon, so I spent some time preparing for that and headed out the door around 11.

It was raining and I had flip-flops on. Those details are significant, because it explains that the onset of clumsiness was not due to old-age. I was in a rush, as usual, and as soon the light turned on Nebraska Avenue I was in motion. I set my flip-flop shod foot down on a manhole cover and then found myself on the pavement with a bleeding big right toe. Thankfully, I could disinfect it later in the chlorine water of the AU pool. (Actually I did try to wrap it up, but as with most band-aids these weren't waterproof. They were just a temporary fix.)

The baptism was incredible! We baptized 4 students, one who was an atheist only a year before. This is the 6th year in a row we did a public ceremony in the pool and every year I get an opportunity to share Jesus with someone watching. As I was thanking the lifeguards, they asked me questions about what we were doing. I was able to share the gospel there on the poolside. I think we'll do this again!

When I got home, Sam, who had been running a fever that morning, was getting worse. I took him into the clinic expecting a long Saturday wait, but it was surprisingly speedy. We were in and out in a 1/2 hour with the assurance that Sam just had a cold. Time for the birthday party!

I picked up Jen and Levi and we had a family outing to one of my favorite places, Five Guys. Not much for atmosphere, but incredible burgers and fries and even though I've never had one, the hot dogs must be pretty good because Sam tasted his 2 times (the barf part). Needless to say, our outing was cut a bit short. We made a quick exit from the restaurant and shuffled quickly (remember the cut toe) three blocks to our car in the rain. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.

As I was relating my sad story to my dad he said, "If that's all that's wrong, you're doing pretty good." I needed to hear that. I was feeling a lot of pity for my throbbing toe and sick son and was forgetting the 32 years of blessings in my life. I have a wonderful wife, 2 sons who bring endless joy and a job that fills me with purpose. So thanks Dad. You helped me to change my perspective. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.

Oh, the Dutch apple pie and Yankees tickets that Jen got for me helped with that smile a bit too. Thanks babe, you're the best!