Okay people. I have a confession to make. I have set the bar excessively high in the past when it comes to my family remembering my birthday. Each year I say to myself, “Oh, it is enough for me that my family is happy, healthy and together. I don’t need anything else.” But in reality, I’m thinking of a few other things that a Michigan girl with a dead of winter March birthday could use. Like a new spring outfit or a bottle of fresh fruity perfume from Bath and Body Works. Perhaps a Mandisa cd or some flowery note cards. Can anyone say dark chocolate?

Now at the risk of sounding as if I am complaining, let me just say that my dear hubby has pulled off some wonderful birthday surprises in the past. Like the time he made a huge birthday card out of poster board and spelled out his sentiments by attaching candy bars to the front. “My dear Kit Kat (my nick name is Kit) I have Mounds of love in my heart for you. Just thinking of your smile makes me fall to Reeses Pieces. Today, kick your feet up and Take Five. You deserve it!” Or on my 30^th birthday, he pulled off an entire slumber party for me complete with a surprise kidnapping by my friends Suzy and Debi. They showed up with curlers in their hair and their comfy jammies and fuzzy slippers on and whisked me away to church where a big overnight bash was waiting for me.

Yes some years are doozies. But the others? Silence. Or a “Oh, I meant to get something together but didn’t have time. Here—my latte punch card is full and ready for a free one. You can have it.”

Gee thanks.

Yep, my family is kinda all or nothing when it comes to remembering dear old mom on her big day.

Well, this year I am going to do it ladies. I am going to set the bar low and expect nothing. I am going to be a low maintenance mom who is happy just to have her family healthy, happy and together. I told God so last night; that I would just be thankful to Him for my blessed ordinary life and look for Him in the midst of my day, not for birthday goods and goodies. Then I turned out the lights rather late. (I was up working on my talk for the Hearts at Home Conference next weekend) and determined I would not set my alarm. We could get a later start on school in the morning.

Then, this morning, on my 44^th birthday, I awoke suddenly and turned to see what time it was. The alarm clock turned instantly to 9:04 a.m.

I was born on this day in 1964. The time? 9:04 a.m.

A whisper of love from my Lord. My day is already complete.

Sweet Ordinary Day Blessings,

Karen