Yes, I’m coming to a birthday. It seems like a person ought to feel like they know more every year. And yet, sometimes I think I don’t know anything about anything. There must be a balance here somewhere. Like, I know that you should dress nicely when you go out in public. Except that’s not a given. Just take a stroll around Walmart. How about that you should mow your lawn about once a week in the summer. That’s not a given either. All I have to do is walk around the corner and take a look at that house across from the bus stop. If my mower worked, I’d go mow it for them. Thank God for grandsons. There must be something. I know that the sun comes up in the east and goes down in the west. Ha! Got one! That proves you can count on God. But wait, what about the Holocaust and people who die too young and … I know another thing. God gets a bad rap. He knows everything and can change whatever He wants, so we point fingers at him when something goes wrong on Earth. I’m glad He’s God and I’m not. Not just because I don’t want fingers pointing at me. In spite of knowing we would turn our backs on him in an effort to be Him. In spite of knowing that when He sent His own Son to communicate His love to us we would crucify Him. In spite of knowing all the black-hearted, mean-spirited, disgusting things we would pull, He is love, and He loves us. He gives us freewill because He is love. There can’t be love without free will. So here we are, blaming Him for what we do ourselves. I know that. Maybe I do know more every year, just not everything. Thank goodness.