Every Year I Get Older (Birthday Thoughts on Parents)

Every year that I get older, my parents get one year smarter. This started my freshman year in college. I think for many of us, our parents' intelligence is best appreciated after we've left home. They seem to us as dense as doornobs in junior high and high school, but then we're away at college and some minor tragedy occurs, mom or dad are the first on the line. It's not that they're smarter. We're more cognizant of all the wisdom they have and how we need it.

My birthday present this year exemplifies my new sensibility regarding my parents' wisdom. I got a big box of socks and underwear. It's just what I wanted and I'm not joking. At 15, clothing of any sort purchased by a relative was automatically suspect, but now at 25, I don't really mind my mother buying me some new drawers. I'm cheap. I don't get stuff I don't really need, especially stuff that nobody sees anyway. So, when my mom gets me some socks, something I wouldn't really get for myself, its really cool. It shows that she's really thinking about me.

I chose Luther Seminary partially because it sits within a one day's drive of my hometown. If I need to get home, as in the case of my grandfather's death last winter, I can get there relatively quickly and inexpensively. It's not burdensome to go home to be with my folks and intentionally so. As we become more and more mobile, pushed about by the needs of the church and the forces of capitalism, I realize that my parents are some of the few folks who have remained steady for me and I thank God for that blessing on my birthday.