I have nothing against birthdays. But it started becoming strange to me that even very mission-minded, others-loving people still feel entitled to this one day that is guaranteed to be: All. About. Them.

Do I need a day that’s all about me? Maybe I’m just in a place in life where that’s not what I want. All I know is, my heart is more alive when it’s not all about me. I feel happier extending love to others than opening gifts and eating cake for myself. For the record though, I have nothing against cake either.

I’ve experienced a rising tension between wanting to live a missional life, but still hang on to a few ok things like “my” birthday, for some time now. But this was the year I decided to put a stake in the ground. I told friends and family I didn’t want any gifts, or a special dinner, or a party. Instead I’d like to spend the $150 that we could have spent on celebration and stuff I don’t really need, on someone who actually needs something.

But I didn’t know who that was yet. Later that week in God’s perfect timing, I was telling a friend about this vision on my heart, and she said she knew a person who knew a person, who knew a guy who slept down by the river in a tent. In this Chicago winter?! I couldn’t believe it. And it turns out, it wasn’t just him. There were over 30 tents along the river, filled with homeless people who can’t/won’t get into shelters. I felt my heart break a little inside, and knew immediately this was why God had placed this vision on my heart this specific year: for these specific people.

It got more intense. Turns out these people live in my backyard. No joke: we live in a building in the South Loop area along the Chicago River, and this tent community is literally camped out right over a hill I can see from our window. But because the hill hides the tents from being seen, I never even known they were there. Until now.

I was determined to shower these people with food, blankets, gifts, and love this year on “my” birthday.

I rallied some like-minded friends and set plans in motion. When my birthday rolled around, I have to admit, it was a little anti-climatic. And it hurt that I wasn’t celebrated. I didn’t realize how much entitlement was still inside of me for this ‘special’ day and it definitely felt like a loss without the typical hullabaloo. No dinner, no party, no gifts, no song.

And the no birthday song hurt the most for some reason.

I decided to focus all of my time and energy into preparing for our trip to the tents the following morning, which was the original plan. I assembled four large breakfast casseroles, and friends gathered hats, gloves, scarves, coats, and bags. We also collected soaps, shampoos, and other toiletry items. I went to McDonald’s and spent $100 on gift cards, and wrote on every single one:

To our neighbor and friend: you are loved and worthy of love.

The next morning I woke bright and early before the sun came up and put all of the prepared breakfast casseroles in the oven. As the food baked, there was special time I’ll never forget as I sat in the stillness of our house that morning. Cuddled up with a blanket and cup of hot tea, I watched the sun slowly and silently rise over that hillside by the river. I sat with God and prayed to Him, wondering what I would encounter there this morning.

And in the stillness, God put the same message on my heart again that I had written on the cards the night before: You are loved and worthy of love. But I knew the message wasn’t just for me. He wanted it shared to others this morning, along with my heart and food. A reminder to our neighbors that: you are not forgotten, you are loved more than you could imagine, and because you are made in God’s image you are worthy of that love every, single, morning. Including this one.

I was excited and full of anticipation. We packed everything up and I had butterflies as we met up with everyone and headed over together, a decent-sized group at this point, to the tents.

Word spread we had food and people slowly started coming out of their tents. Everyone was a bit timid at first, but after a couple cups of coffee it felt like an outdoor living room. The conversation was real, the smiles were genuine, and the food (thank goodness) was hot and delicious. People didn’t understand why anyone cared enough about them to bring all of this friendship and fun! Inside I felt sad they were shocked someone cared.

We had so much fun. We laughed and joked, and whenever someone asked why we were there I explained, because Jesus says: You are loved and worthy of love.

One of my friends let it out that it was my birthday, and the singing started.

The birthday song. The one that had been forgotten for me this year.

But God hadn’t forgotten.

I stood in that moment, tears welling up in my eyes with joy. I knew the real reason no one had sung for me yet is because this was the song, right here in this moment, that God had wanted to give me for my birthday. A song that showed me what it’s like to serve when I’m supposed to be served, to give when I’m supposed to be given, and the peace that comes from knowing: it’s not about me.