I was born on June 19, 1942. I looked up the day to see which day of the week it was, and I was born on a Friday. If you’re old enough to remember the old nursery rhymes, the poem “Monday’s Child,” was designed to help children learn the order of each day of the week. When I was younger and learning these rhymes, I had a tendency and still do, to wonder about such things. Who makes up these words? Not to mention the way words change in meaning over time.
“Thursday’s child has far to go.” I suppose this could be because the week is almost over and it seems like the end is finally near, but it will return again next week. It might have to do with not being able to accomplish what we set out to do on Monday. Maybe Mother Goose simply couldn’t think of anything else to write that rhymed. The fact that I wonder about such things, gives one pause.
Some folks like to analyze these old verses. For example, some believe that Thursday’s child might be the child with special needs. Some think that it refers to the obstacles children run into during the week and by Thursday, they’re ready to throw in the towel. David Bowie and Reeves Gabrels wrote the music and lyrics for “Thursday’s Child,” as follows:
All of my life I’ve tried so hard
Doing my best with what I had
Nothing much happened all the same.
Something about me stood apart
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail
Maybe I’m born right out of my time
Thursday was one of the most difficult days for our Lord, Jesus. On that day of Holy week His Holy Supper was instituted. He discussed His coming death, behaved like a servant by washing His disciples’ feet – foretold the betrayal of one disciple and the denial of another – prayed to the point of complete surrender as blood came from His eyes, in the garden where He often went to meditate – replaced a man’s ear without surgery – was arrested for preaching the truth – was accused of blasphemy, placed before a kangaroo court and treated brutally by his accuser. The next day He would be tortured, humiliated, spat upon and crucified until He died.
Most of us will never experience such suffering. Our days may have ups and downs, but they will be nothing like the Thursday of Holy Week. When we arrive at the end of our week, let’s be reminded of the great cost paid for our redemption. Because of Jesus’ love, we all have the promise of being full of grace. Heaven is waiting for those who believe that the price for our ransom has been paid by God Himself.
atimetoshare.me 
You made me look it up. I am a Thursday Child! My mother said it was the hottest day in recorded history, but that was only if you lived in a little town in a different state, and then just the state record at the time.
And believe me, I have a long way to go! But I am looking forward to that time when I am outside time and space and there will be no more Thursdays next week. I have no concept of how that works, but being with Jesus will be timeless.
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I can’t wait either ❤️
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I was born on a Saturday. And like you, Kathy, I have wondered about this poem, too.
My mother was born on a 13th. She often claimed that she was born on Friday the 13th, and said this was why her life was so troubled. But I just looked it up, and she was actually born on a Wednesday. ‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe.’ Hmmm. Makes me wonder.
And now, I have some hard work I need to do…
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I always learn from you, Mama K. What a beautiful and intriguing post. I think of Jesus’s Thursday–his suffering and the beauty of his resurrection. We will not know his pain, for sure. My Dad was born the same year as you. His bday is Feb. 6th. You are definitely loving and giving! I looked up what day I was born–it was a Wednesday–I’m full of woe, Mama! Actually, I’m filled with worship and wonder. I love you and pray for you both daily. ❤️🙏
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You definitely don’t fit the mold. Full of joy in spite of woe is more like it. Paul was born February 11, 1942. Thanks for reading as always❤️
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Aww, thank you, Mama. Today I went to see 5 WWII vintage airplanes. An 80-year-old Dr who served in the Air Force asked me about my “Air Force Mom” shirt. I told him about my sons. He told me about his career (served at the base where my youngest is stationed) and his “exceptional” wife whom he lost to cancer. It came time to climb a ladder to the cockpit of the B-29. My back was hurting and I was a bit nervous about climbing. I told him I had cancer and you should have seen his face. It was filled with love and compassion. He made sure someone helped me up and down the ladder. We spoke for some time. There were some young families there; many older people who served. I came home and my body hurt. I laid down a while and thought I’d get on here to read and work on a newsletter; God-willing. Tomorrow I have a bone infusion and blood work–a long day. But I’ve had a new day. I was thinking of you while I was there today. I’m such an old soul, Mama K. I love history, those like you–we’re losing our greatest generation. I pray to Jesus that we will put our priorities straight–but in the end, we win, no matter what! I knew that Paul and Dad were very close in sharing birthdays! How wonderful! Much much love! I’m so glad I got to be here with you at your place. ❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏🙏🙏
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❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Checking back, I see that I am a Wednesday child. At least I was born with the rest of the week rolling downhill. But seriously, my life’s journey would be straight up hill without the timeless grace of God’s love. He promised us a Savior, and may all believers feel the presence of this gift each day.
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Thanks for your kind words and encouragement. We appreciate your prayers
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