It's always such a tough call to make when selecting winners to our online writing challenges, and this month was no different! We received so many wonderful submissions to the September challenge to write about a birthday memory.
Thank you to all of you who submitted, and congratulations to our top three winners!
1st place: "The Last Hoorah," by Sonya Edwards
2nd place: "Born in a Bank," by Jena Reeves
3rd place: "A Birthday Bash to Remember," by Patricia Taylor
"The Last Hoorah"
by Sonya Edwards
In the height of COVID August 2020, it didn’t seem that I would have a birthday. Things shut down. No special places to travel or go to dinner to celebrate. Much to my surprise, God had a better plan.
My sister, who had been estranged from the family for a number of years, had just recently re-entered our lives. This came after a great time of her distancing herself from me and, more especially, my mom. My mom was heartbroken those years without her other daughter in her life. But, the worst part, she didn’t understand why.
We were very thankful that my sister had taken steps to rejoin our family. With that hope in mind, I thought it would be a great idea to celebrate my birthday with the three of us (mom, sister and me) by having a sleepover at my house. My sister was hesitant at first, then reluctantly gave in. My mother was thrilled. We planned for my mom to make all our favorite dishes including her memorable breakfast biscuits. The date was set. Plans made. The night came. Needless to say, I was anxious. Not knowing what to expect. I was also very excited that this might be the beginning of a long-awaited reunion.
As we came together, there was some apprehension in the air. However, this didn’t last long. We began getting each other up-to-speed on our lives, sharing fond memories. Before you know it, we were all laughing so hard we couldn’t control ourselves, literally, or maybe bladderally (if that’s a word). It was just like old times, as if there hadn’t been any space or distance between us.
We wouldn’t know the meaning or the importance of that night until June of the following year. My mother passed suddenly of a heart attack. She was 79 years young with the health of a 20 year old. We didn’t see that coming. She hadn’t been sick or ill to speak of a day in her life. The picture of health.
Gone, like a vapor.
My mother had longed for the return of my sister to our family. And, on my birthday, we celebrated that reunion. Never realizing that God had a plan of reconciliation before he called my mother home.
On that night, we planned so many things that we wanted to do together again. Trips, shopping, birthdays. We even planned for this birthday sleepover to be an annual event because it brought us closer together. God had a different plan.
That was the last birthday I spent with my mother this side of heaven. I am thankful God chose that day to bring us all back together again.
"Born in a Bank"
by Jena Reeves
This is the story of my birth.
No. Not that one.
I was raised in church. As a child, I remember Sunday School with fondness. Bible stories about Adam and Eve, Noah and the ark, Jonah and the whale. Beautiful stories. I loved the music we sang and still enjoy old hymns. Mother used to take us to all-night gospel singings. These are some of my best memories of childhood. I seriously wanted to be Vestal Goodman with a voice that rang out loud and strong.
I even got baptized in those young years. I followed my brother down the aisle one Sunday and we were baptized in the river a few weeks later. Nobody knew that I just walked down the aisle because he did. Nothing changed inside of me.
By the time I was in high school, my attendance was sporadic. I had in my mind that when I graduated, I would get serious with church and all those “God” things. After high school, I would work on being “good”. After all, I did want to go to heaven. Between college and work, though, that didn’t happen.
The year after I graduated high school, I was working part-time at a bank, printing checks, while also taking classes at the local community college. It was a good job. When I got my work done, I was allowed to study or read.
It was during this time that a friend gave me a book. It was about God and the end times. When she talked about it, when she talked about God, her eyes lit up. She talked about how He loved her. Even though I was raised in church, I didn’t have that. I had never heard that God LOVED me. I know it was taught. I just didn’t hear. Scripture talks about people who have ears to hear and people who don’t. I didn’t. My friend believed that God loved her. I wanted to believe it too.
The book drew me in quickly. Those apocalyptic stories make a church girl think. I read it at home, at school between classes, and at work. I couldn’t put it down.
I was sitting at my desk at a bank in downtown Gadsden, Alabama. Checks printed. Free time.
The last chapter. That’s when it happened. The most significant spiritual experience of my life. I don’t remember the words of the last chapter. I only remember what happened to me when I finished it. It wasn’t fear. It was clarity. It was literally like something physical fell off my eyes. Scales. Scales fell off my eyes and I could see. I saw truth. I saw that hell was real. I saw that I was going there and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I saw that I could never be good
enough to earn my way into heaven. I saw that destiny and it was not good.
Deflated, I thought to myself, “Wow, I wonder if there is any way out of this.”
Turning the page, in big bold letters, I read.
“Jesus died so you would not have to go to hell.”
There are no words for the relief that flooded me.
A simple prayer was provided. I prayed. Life came into my body. I was born. Born of the Spirit. Relief and gratitude filled my heart. Love overwhelmed me. I loved everyone and had peace like I had never known. I was changed.
I was a different person after that. My church and bible took on new meaning. Though I still loved singing the music and reading the stories, it was about more than that. It was about knowing Jesus. It wasn’t about being good enough, it was about the fact that I couldn’t be good enough.
We celebrate our natural birthdays with gifts and cake. Although we don’t normally celebrate our spiritual birthday the same, I am forever grateful for that day.
The day I learned that God LOVES.
Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” John 3:3-6 (ESV)
"A Birthday Bash To Remember"
by Patricia Taylor
I was born on December 2, 1945. Being one of our mother’s seven children, she could never afford to give us kids a birthday party. She always did make us a wonderful homemade delicious birthday cake though. We also knew we were loved by the many other things she did for us. Times were hard, but she was really the one who did without.
I have had several birthday parties as an adult, but my 70 th birthday stands out more than the rest. Our son Terry and our grandson came to stay with his disabled Dad/Granddad for me to have a day out. Our daughter-in-law and granddaughter took me to the Galleria for a day of fun and surprises. They bought me lunch and gifts at some of the stores. We laughed and talked and I felt like a queen. I was beginning to see the benefits of getting older.
Our Granddaughter who was 10 at the time, asked me to ride the carousel with her and we did that several times. We took goofy pictures in the photo booth, and I even rode the train with her. I was too big to fit in that little train car, but after all, it was my birthday! We laughed and waved at other shoppers as we went by them. They smiled and waved back, probably astonished to see a grown woman in the small train. We had a blast and they capped it off by taking me to Build A Bear. I felt like a kid again as I picked out a bear, clothes and all. It was truly a wonderful day. We stayed at the Galleria for several hours, and laughed even more on the way home. I told them how much I enjoyed and appreciated it.
Our son Terry, his dad and our grandson had another surprise waiting for me when we got home. Seventy balloons were taped all over the walls, cabinets, and were laying other places. I had several cards and Terry had even bought a necklace for his dad to give to me. He also had made me a birthday cake. I was overwhelmed. It was a special birthday I will never forget.
Terry knew how hard it had been on me as I cared for his Dad for the past several years. He said he wanted to lift me up and make my birthday special. Our son doesn’t cook much, but he had cooked his mama a birthday cake and that says it all. We talked about the day as we ate cake and I told them it was so much fun turning seventy, that I was thinking about turning seventy again next year. We all got a laugh out of that.
What a blessing to feel loved and appreciated at a time when life was hard. It was also special for my husband, with our son’s help, to have a part in it. I did not realize how tired I was, not only physically, but emotionally. All that went away after a few trips around the carousel. In reality, the Lord knows when we have about gone our last mile and need uplifting and renewed hope. It was if God himself was celebrating my birthday. I could almost see the flickering candles from heaven!
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