Birthday Grounding

5-4-3-2- one special day

I tried to teach my younger daughter the grounding technique in the middle of a meltdown — 0/10 do not recommend. When I asked her what she sees, she said, “I see a dumb girl crying!” and collapsed into sobs.

I am seeing a bit of the same on my 36th birthday. Big feelings about leaving our home for furlough, about my kids all looking so tall and gangly, and about having a friend who wants to spend 24 hours celebrating me. Happy, sad, and grateful tears linger at my lashes eager to make a trail down my face at any slight provocation.

I ground myself in the Gospel first:

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash

Then this:

5 things I see

36 candles

Enough to start a nice little house fire. Enough that I look at NFL rookies and think, “They’re just little babies!” Enough that I now wear glasses, and my knees crack when I get up from the floor. Enough to know that life is precious and time is fleeting. Enough to be so, so grateful.

Lines around my eyes

And around my mouth and down the center of my forehead like a great crack in the earth. I blame it on walking all over the city and my specific amnesia about the general recommendation to wear sunscreen. And also I’m a redhead.

Bags packed under the bed

Another four years on the field has come and gone. Black duffels hold gifts to share with friends back home — friends who will get to know this version of me. A lot changes in four years.

Family at my table

The family I came with and the family we’ve found here. Only one of my kids still has baby teeth, like tiny pearls chipped at the edges. Friends gather to eat bidhesi khana— popular requests of mac and cheese, creamed corn, lemon cake, and little smokies. This is a dream I never knew I should be dreaming.

Pink walls

Apricot Afternoon, actually. My husband will not let me call them pink. Like many other things as I’ve matured, this hue has grown on me. I love how it matches my children’s cheeks when they’re having a good laugh over a well-timed Dad joke.

4 things I touch

A pouch above my jeans

No, it’s not a fanny pack. It is soft evidence of many savored birthday cakes and bringing four¹ babies into the world. It has been grabbed by an Indian woman who pinched her tummy at the same time and said, “We are same same.” It has been adored by my youngest who declares, “Your squishy belly is so fun!” I don’t know how fun it is, but I know I am thankful for mom jeans.

A book of my own words

I planned to never let my poetry see the light of day, but my husband had other ideas. He helped me sort, format, and print my little collection based on New Testament interactions with Jesus. It feels good to hold something I created that doesn’t cry out for milk in the middle of the night.

Split ends

I don’t think it is just language and cultural differences that make me hate getting my hair cut. When the stylist combs my wavy hair into straight, soaked curtains on each side of a blinding middle part, fluorescent lights magnifying every feature, I have an existential crisis. Do I really look like this? I am just walking around looking like this? Long and ill-maintained seems OK here, but when I get to America I will freak out about how polished everybody looks. And then I will go to Walmart.

Silver ring

I lost an accent diamond on my engagement ring which has my wedding band soldered onto it. One night, I ran my hand over the set and the emptiness scratched at me. Is it hiding in my bedroom somewhere? Is it in the belly of the washing machine? Did it take a ride in a taxi in Japan? My rings retired, I had a simple (read: cheap) band made with our wedding date on the inside. It is enough.

3 things I hear

My daughter singing

when I say God is good, you say all the time! And I know what to do. We clasp hands. We sing and shout and dance. We worship.

Coffee Brewing

This is my husband’s gift to me. Not just on my birthday but on every morning. When he goes on trips, I have to text him to remind me how much grounds to put in the filter. The gurgling sound of the drip-coffee maker is not loud enough to wake my kids, but it is loud enough to make me feel loved.

Washer washing

I see people handwashing their laundry every day so I understand what an absolute luxury it is to have a washing machine. The soapy water swishes around, possibly laundering clothes my kids didn’t even wear, and the gears churn and groan. How many years does this machine have left?

2 things I smell

Raw milk

boiling on the stove 4 cups at a time, reserved for sleepy children and milk tea preparation. Part of me will miss the small bags of milk brought in each day. Part of me rejoices when my son says, “Soon we we’ll be able to get a whole gallon of milk at the store. Can you believe it?” What a gift.

Dust

My host country is topping the charts for air pollution. I have to clean my glasses as soon as I board the bus and again after I get where I am going. I never knew that dust had a smell before it was a regular feature in my life — musty and metallic. It tells me the state of things: we need cleansing.

1 thing I taste

Homemade strawberry topping

on pancakes, a special treat prepared by my husband before Saturday-busyness² overshadows birthday festivities. Only available in the cold, cold winter, I have lost my taste for what was once my favorite food. This indulgence reminds my taste buds what should be relished: the sweet warm hug of this season’s harvest.

It 
looks like…
feels like…
sounds like…
smells like..
tastes like…

a good day for a birthday.

1. Ezra Coleman was born still May 15, 2013

2. Per the established local routine, we have church on Saturdays. It is a big ministry day for us and rest happens on Sunday. It’s a pretty good system!