Hello again! How are you doing today?
Today, my friend Moriah wrote an amazing piece on the beauty of a day. I love her post. It really reminds me that I need to treat each and every day that I’m alive as a gift because it is.
The Miraculous Beauty of Today
by: Moriah Simonwich
I was sticky from the African heat and welcomed every rush of soothing breezes that drifted occasionally through nearby windows of the village church.
Quite sometime into the sermon as I was growing fidgety in my plastic chair, the pastor shared a rich remark about life I still haven’t been able to forget.
His voice was mellow and cracked with age as he spoke in the melodious dialect. Before the meaning of his words reached my ears, there was a pause while the younger pastor translated into English:
“Every day that I wake up and I am still alive, that is a miracle for me.”
Like quiet joy unfolding, his one sentence had unraveled this truth:
Every being on earth that ever has lived or ever will live has an incredibly special miracle—the breath of God is breathed into clay bodies that keeps them alive.
This man, wizened by several decades as well as persecution, had chosen to treasure simply waking up in the morning.
His attitude unearthed a probing question:
Do we view life this way; being alive as being a miracle?
Too often, I slide out of the wrong side of the bed grouchy and ungrateful, bogged down by the stress of life or what there is to do. My natural impulse is to tear through the day planning tomorrow or the next week, month, and year without taking a moment to steady myself, slow down, and savor now.
It’s disgraceful to think of the millions of kind blessings from God I’ve been neglected by rushing—even beautiful, miraculous blessings like being alive.
Of course, we cannot notice every single thing because we are imperfect and that is an unrealistic expectation. The answer is practicing a heart that beats with intentional appreciation.
How does this look from day to day?
Ann Voskamp has some insightful words on the subject:
We must enjoy our lives today.
God has been teaching me this lately through difficult circumstances and my own discontented heart: if I cannot rejoice in Him now, I certainly won’t find tomorrow a delight. Today counts. If everyone could grasp that, what a joyful, peaceful existence we would have!
God’s Word has some rich wisdom in this area too:
Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit”; whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow.
For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.
Considering life as a vapor increases its value.
We aren’t promised tomorrow. It may seem unlikely, but this very day could be our last! In my twenty years of living each year gets just a little shorter. Christmas and birthdays come quicker. Why? Scripture tells us that life is a vapor that “appears for a little time.”
If you talk to someone who has lived through many years, say over seventy-five, they will tell you the same thing! Childhood seems just a few years back, their own children, babies just yesterday. Life slipped away more briefly than they could have imagined at the time.
Keeping the allegorical comparison of a vapor at the forefront of our minds will help us value each second, it will help the clock slow just a little.
|Corrie ten Boom offers well-known advice that is crucial, invaluable about tomorrows:
Worry about tomorrow empties today of its strength.
Remember how I discussed my tendency to become bogged down with the stress of life? That is draining. No one can carry the load of worrying, in Corrie’s words “carrying two days at once,” without buckling under the impossible weight. A day is a day filled with enough trouble of its own (Matthew 6:34).
The more we refocus energetic attention on today, the more we’ll fully live.
Let’s take that same miraculous beauty of today, of simply being alive, to heart.
Moriah Simonowich a twenty-year-old living in North Carolina who loves porch swings, wide open skies, lattes, lab puppies, and the crispness of October. It’s rare that she misses an opportunity to slip outside and quietly capture sunsets. Writing is like oxygen to her heart. You can connect with Moriah here: www.delightinginhim.com