I’m not  a big birthday person.  It’s not an age thing–one of the perks of being an Episcopal Priest is that I get to be considered “young” until I”m 45 (currently, I’m waiting for them to raise it).  That gives me another 16 years of young.

For years I would be reminded that it was my birthday when my first family member called to wish me a Happy Birthday.  It was always a pleasant surprise that occasionally lead to a friend chastising me over not telling them my birthday was coming up.  So when I finally joined Facebook I listed my birthday.

Now my first reminder that my birthday is coming up is when my Church sings me “Happy Birthday” (visit us for your birthday and we’ll sing for you!).  Then my friends in significantly different time zones start leaving Happy Birthday messages.  Then the day itself arrives and the birthday wishes pour in.

I know that many of these are people just taking a second or two of their day and typing a few words because they got a little notice.

But these people are a couple of seconds to do something because they believe it might brighten my day for a couple of seconds.  And it does.

There are grander gestures and gentler gestures.  Today, on my birthday, I’m cherishing both reminders that I am loved.