I Didn't Ask To Be Born
This was posted very early Sunday, but was written Saturday so it counts.
I was watching something on the Animal Planet channel to do with births. One was some long-legged creature, maybe a deer that popped out and, as soon as it learned how to stand, went over to its mother and found out where the milk dispenser was located.
“Ain’t that something,” I thought. “Do you think it realizes it was just born?” And with that, I remember back to when I was five and playing with a girl up the street who was, I think, all of seven. I knew I was five and I think I had some general idea of what that meant, but I don’t recall realizing that five years earlier I did not exist. We didn’t sit around and discuss the fact that we came from nothingness. Not at five, not at seven.
Suppose we had been given the choice. I knew a disabled teen who once complained, “I didn’t ask to be born.” While I sympathized with him, I replied, “I don’t know anybody who did.” We don’t ask to exist; our Creator calls us from nothingness into life, gives us a few chances to get it right in one lifetime, and then we get the beautiful garden or the fiery pit.
So, one fine day, we come to an understanding that we have been created and are here. For some reason, that did not occur to us in the months or year after it happened. “Huh; here I am. Now what do I do?
If we were asked, we might miss up on some great opportunities.
I was watching something on the Animal Planet channel to do with births. One was some long-legged creature, maybe a deer that popped out and, as soon as it learned how to stand, went over to its mother and found out where the milk dispenser was located.
“Ain’t that something,” I thought. “Do you think it realizes it was just born?” And with that, I remember back to when I was five and playing with a girl up the street who was, I think, all of seven. I knew I was five and I think I had some general idea of what that meant, but I don’t recall realizing that five years earlier I did not exist. We didn’t sit around and discuss the fact that we came from nothingness. Not at five, not at seven.
Suppose we had been given the choice. I knew a disabled teen who once complained, “I didn’t ask to be born.” While I sympathized with him, I replied, “I don’t know anybody who did.” We don’t ask to exist; our Creator calls us from nothingness into life, gives us a few chances to get it right in one lifetime, and then we get the beautiful garden or the fiery pit.
So, one fine day, we come to an understanding that we have been created and are here. For some reason, that did not occur to us in the months or year after it happened. “Huh; here I am. Now what do I do?
If we were asked, we might miss up on some great opportunities.
posted by Tom Carten at 12:11 AM
1 Comments:
"Sure is dark in here, and I went back to sleep.
Still dark, but today I heard a voice, my mother's voice I think.
We had a big day yesterday as we went bowling last night and I slept very well afterwards, sleeping almost all day today too. Oh yes, I found my fingers.
My grandmother and my mom talk a lot together. I like my grandma.
Those long rides in the car are nice as I doze off, wake up when we hit a bump or when my father would touch me when I moved.
Today was terrible. We went to see the doctor and he pushed his fingers all over me and that stethoscope is so cold. I was exhausted after the examination.
I like it in here though, it is dark and warm, I can liisten to my grandma and my parents and we take rides and go shopping together.Yes, indeed it is nice.
Hey, I'm moving and it is not me who is moving me! There is a light, I am scared. There are people out there and the calendar on the wall says June 22,1938.
My mother takes me in her arms and says,
"I give you life, be good to it, I give you love, please accept it for my love shall be eternal".
This is the biggest and best flower in my bouquet. Its petals are rich in my favourite colours, emanating from them is a sensation of preciously chosen hues which my mother thought would be fitting for me during my lifetime. Today this flower has outlasted all the rest as the petals did not ever wane, nor did the hues and colours ever wither, giving me a notion that she is still yet there with me, following me down the garden path of life.
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