You say it's your birthday?

...Well it's my birthday too, yeah! Couldn't resist. I've been wondering this week why we give gifts to someone on their birthday. Shouldn't the person's mother get the gifts? (Well, if said mother is still alive.) After all, I didn't do anything to be born. My mother did all the work. I looked up birthday gifts on wikipedia and they said that October 5 and 6 are the most popular birthdays in the U.S. My first thought was, "Do people really have a choice of birthdays? You can't help when you're born. Even if your mom has an elective C-section." Kind of made me laugh. Anyway, I was born on August 15th. I guess somebody forgot to warn my parents about the "ides of August." I like having my birthday on August 15th.
What amazes me is how well God knows me. Psalm 139:13-18 reads:

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex. Your workmanship is marvelous--and how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God! They are innumerable! I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up in the morning, you are still with me!

Every day of my life has been written already. If I think about this too much, I get a headache. I think about how God is not limited by time and space, so somewhere on another contiuum, all these people are still alive. After all, God is the God of Jacob, Issac. God IS the God, not God was the God. It's mind boggling isn't it?