(Happy Birthday to Me)

I’m pulling up to fifty,
Not a lot of time to kill,
I’ll be stopped here for a moment,
Asking God about His will.
Just a little yearly check-in—
Though I don’t want to be still—
I’m pulling up to fifty,
Fill the tank and pay the bill.

He’s propped up on a wooden bench
Just right outside the door,
But He walked across the asphalt,
Gave a smile, and took my chore,
Said, “This station here’s full-service,
You can go inside the store,
Or just stay here—let me help you—
Chat a while—I don’t ignore.”

So we talked and there’s no reason
To recount just what was said,
But I told Him of my troubles,
Muddled thoughts inside my head,
Dumped them out into a trash can
That he offered me instead,
Then I felt a whole lot better—
No more clutter, no more dread.

Then He said, “There’s more to lighten
For the miles on down the road,”
And he opened up my trunk,
Found extra baggage to unload:
“You won’t be needing all this stuff.”
Instead, the Lord bestowed
A pack of peanut butter crackers
And an icy bottled Coke.

Next, He focused on a different task
And picked His squeegee up,
Started cleaning off my windshield
Rubbing hard against the bugs,
For it helps to see things clearly,
Gave my conscience just a scrub
To remove the shame and sadness,
All the build-up, all the crud.

The job was easy for Him:
“This is what I do, you know,”
And then next, He checked my tires,
Found they were a little low,
Aired them up, then popped the hood,
He checked the filters, lines, and flow,
All the fluids at proper levels,
Adding mileage to my soul.

Then at last, He said, “You’re ready,
Time to get back on the road,”
Asked Him what I ought to pay Him,
And he said, “There’s nothing owed.
Just do your best to live each day—
Be present, take it slow.”
So I’m off again, but better,
Facing forward, sunset glow.