I believe that I have sung the happy birthday song over 700 times in my life. You see, I used to work as a singing waitress. People would tip me to ham it up and embarrass their loved ones. I found that most birthday diners would rather not have some total stranger clinking glassware and pointing to them while holding a flaming sundae. Part of my shtick was to ask the birthday boy/girl to make a speech. “Do you have any advice for us on this, your 50th birthday?”
I’ve heard some pretty funny one-liners over the years. My favorite was from a little old man who winked at me and said, “Happy wife, happy life.”
Being a wife, I liked that one. But the one that stuck with me the most came from a serene hippy gal in a flowing gauze dress. She said calmly, “God is Green.”
Huh? Was she a recycler? Into money? A pot smoker?
It became clear to me one day as I was hiking in the hills above the Pacific ocean. This day was so crisp that I could see Catalina. The mustard plants painted the hills a golden yellow that only made the green more vibrant. The sky was a brilliant blue and the leaves on the trees shimmered in the light. I thought, God is Green. All of this was created and grown by a genius designer! Who else could cook up a little dust, some water, and a tiny seed and create this awesome beauty?
God grows it all. The lazy oak, the opportunist willow, the misshapen manzanita, the untidy Jacaranda. God is green and growing all around us.
Likewise, God has grown the love I have for my children. I remember so clearly holding my eldest daughter after her birth. I gasped in awe at her perfectly shaped fingernails, her tiny toes, and her sweet perfection.
And now I gasp as I watch her pull out of the driveway sixteen years later in my minivan! My inner soundtrack plays that song from Fiddler on the Roof that goes, “When did she get to be a beauty? When did she grow to be so tall? Wasn’t it yesterday when she was small?”
That same daughter fell asleep with her head on my lap the other night as we were watching a movie. It brought me back to the days of her babyhood, when the whole of her fit into my lap. When she was a perfectly wrapped bundle that I was afraid I might harm if I hefted her over my shoulder with too much zeal. I laughed to think of her ingredients. Some hugs and kisses, a lot of orange food, a public school education, and, voilà, a teenager.
I planted the seed. Our family gave it water, and God alone granted the increase.
God is green and planting daily.