I remember this birthday like it was yesterday.
Debbie Patrujiah made my wish come true. She got me a twist and turn Barbie Doll with real eyelashes and bendable legs.
And suddenly, I forgot all of my troubles and other gifts, including a modeling clay kit and hot dog machine game.
But now, years after Barbie’s limbs have been broken (though her plastic shoes are still intact in a Michigan landfill), I get another birthday wish.And it’s for something a lot bigger than fashionable doll from Shang Hai.
I wish for my child like faith.
Ya know, the kind that I outgrew along with that dress and pixie bangs.
I wish I had faith that wasn’t corrupted by skepticism, the kind that believed in a God that whipped man up from dust, created motels in the shape of whales, weather forecasts that included both six months of rain and downpours of frogs.
I wish for faith in the God that was worshiped in huge churches and Cathedrals, that are now only filled with tourists on European vacations.
Right now, my mind-blowing childhood faith is tucked away in the scrapbook of my brain. It has been replaced by a God who has shrunk to a selling point of a mega church brand, one that is used to get votes on election day, or has been reinvented by a hip pastor with trendy eye frames to sell his latest book.
And it sucks.
Why?
If I still had faith in the God of Mind-blowing Awesome, I could have faith in smaller things too.
All that other stuff I wish for.
Like wishing I could make a difference in the world like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life.
That if I stop drinking bottled water, the garbage patch in the ocean would shrink up.
That I could find some Metamucil for my creativity, and poop out that constipated second half of my manuscript that’s stuck inside.
And wishing that the yoga class I took at lunch will balance the red velvet birthday cake I just devoured, the crumbs of which I am still licking off my key board.
But most important, I wish that I could enjoy each day without having to wish for anything else.
To just enjoy the simple small things of everyday life.
That’s my big awesome birthday wish.
What’s yours?
You do make a difference in life, like George Bailey! Your actions and writing touch people, Ginger! When I read your words, I feel better because you are so authentically unique and so real and it is awe inspiring. Your observations (the current location and condition of Barbie’s shoes for instance) and your way with words bring me joy! Thank you! Please enjoy your day!
Thank you! You make a difference, too. Your brother Tom has been such an inspiration to so many people, his laughter and love for life.
Please tell me that I’m more attractive than George Bailey!
You’re FAR more attractive than George Bailey, Ginger!
And, you’ve made a difference in my life.
It’s the little things. Keep doing them, because they add up to big things over time.
Like the snowball that rolls down the hill and becomes bigger with each roll, changing the landscape as it goes.