I was there to hear your borning cry

As I write this, I am getting ready to travel to the U.S. for my mother's 90th birthday. She is doing well, she lives independently, and (like the Queen of England) she still drives, though not as much as in the past, mainly for her weekly hair appointment.
I am thankful, of course, for my mother's good health and sharp mind. Her own mother lived to be 95, which seemed remarkable at the time, as it does now. When we gather as a family next week, we plan to give thanks to God for good health and sharp minds, but also for the faith our mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother passed along to all of us, the faith that sustains her in this chapter of her life and the faith that sustains me as well.
Life, I have come to see, is a series of chapters and transitions. I am old enough now - though thankfully not yet as old as my mom! - to see the truth in this. We move through life in stages, some good and pleasant, others not quite as good and certainly not as pleasant. But - there is good news in this, I promise! - even in the difficult times, there is always the sense that there is more to come, another stage, another chapter, another surprise.
When I am in a difficult chapter of my life (and there have been a few along the way), I have learned to remember that there is still more to look forward to, more that God has in mind for me, "a future and a hope," as Jeremiah puts it. God said to his people through the prophet, "I know the plans I have for you." I wish I knew too, but it is enough, I have come to see, that God knows.
Frankly, I wish I had learned this lesson earlier in my life, but maybe this is something that only age can teach us. In any case, I give thanks for this insight at this (later) stage of my life.
There is one other lesson that I have learned that is important to share with you, and that is: God is with us through each stage of life, not only the good, but the unpleasant as well.
The following expresses this truth as well as any hymn I have ever sung. A previous church I served used to sing this hymn every time we baptized a baby (and to fully appreciate what the hymn means to say, one should at least be open the idea of infant baptism).
As my friend (and worship scholar) C. Michael Hawn says about this hymn, “Many hymns address God from the human perspective, but few address humanity from God’s point of view. The spirit of 'Borning Cry' is one of a God who loved us from the beginning of time and continues to love us throughout the seasons of our life."
I was there to hear your borning cry, I’ll be there when you are old. I rejoiced the day you were baptized, to see your life unfold.
I was there when you were but a child, with a faith to suit you well; In a blaze of light you wandered off to find where demons dwell.
When you heard the wonder of the Word I was there to cheer you on; You were raised to praise the living Lord, to whom you now belong.
If you find someone to share your time and you join your hearts as one, I’ll be there to make your verses rhyme from dusk ’till rising sun.
In the middle ages of your life, not too old, no longer young, I’ll be there to guide you through the night, complete what I’ve begun.
When the evening gently closes in, and you shut your weary eyes, I’ll be there as I have always been with just one more surprise.
I was there to hear your borning cry, I’ll be there when you are old. I rejoiced the day you were baptized, to see your life unfold.
The author and composer, John Carl Ylvisaker, is 80 years old this year. He is undoubtedly thinking of that “one more surprise” God has in mind for him.
(Note: I wrote something like this for my church's monthly newsletter, the Update.)