Each Day is a Gift

Somewhere along the way, I have stopped realizing that each day is a gift. Good. Bad. Indifferent. Each day is one more that the Lord has allowed us to have and we should be thankful for that day, and whatever occurs.
Because somewhere someone is fighting for one more day or someone is wishing they had just one more day.

The year I was in the four grade, I was in a spilt class with fifth graders. This is where I met my first real friend, Amy. She had long, scraggley reddish brown hair, a gap in her front teeth like me and divorced parents like I did so we were destined to be best friends from the start! We did everything that we could together. Since my homelife was a shipwreck, I waitted for days in Ms. Derossick class where I could share my woe's with my friend who got it, even as a fifth grader. She cried with me. Laughed with me. And never let me fall alone. After school, I begged my mom often to "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE go to Amy's house", where after a quick call to Amy's mom, I was dropped off within an hour or two. The answer was not always yes, but I lived for the moments that were. Amy had a big family, a sister, two step sisters and a half brother. Her life mirrored mine, and I could get lost at her house with the laughter and squabbles or trips with her mom and step dad to the bowling alley. Fourth grade was the B E S T grade ever!!! When my family moved away at the end of that year, I was devestated. But Amy stated true to her word and we stayed in touch. I was even the friend she invited to go camping with her as her family went to Kings Island. It was my first time sleeping in a tent. Being in a 5th Wheel and going any where that was not to Tennessee to see my mom's family as a "vacation". We stayed friends through the years until somewhere after high school. We had interactions here and there but nothing to speak of. It was sad to me that our friend ship slipped through the cracks of life and I oftend hoped that life would bring us together again. The day my mom died, I thought of Amy alot. If ever I needed the girl who shared my pain, it was then. I was more than thankful for the amazing friends that shared my grief, but there was something special about my fourth grade friend that I needed at that time. Soon after, I had learned she had a little boy, J and I was invited to her wedding. It was strange sitting there,at that table enjoying a special day with my childhood friend, I was still hoping that somehow, someway this new phase of Amy's life would rekindle our frienship. A few phone calls here or there, but it was clear we were headed in different directions. Fast forward a few years, I find out that that our seperate paths rewarded us with very different futures...this year would have been Amy's 35th birthday. Somewhere there is a little boy wishing for one more day with his mommy. I think of her often and my heart aches for him.

This week-end, a friend, lays in a hospital bed fighting for one more day with her beautiful family. Praising God for all that He had done, never chastising Him for the disease that is distroying her body and will take her away from her family much, much to early. I remember being a young twenty something sitting in a church pew watching in awe as she lavished love on her darling girls and handsome son while lovingly disciplining them when necessary. On a given day, her husband snuck up behind her and kissed her on the cheek. She blushed like a school girl, and the love that they shared was evident. I knew then and there, I want to be a mother and wife so in love with her family that I wore it proudly displayed upon my face for all to see, like my friend! My heart aches for her, the pain that she endures. The reality of the future that she face unless God intervenes..
Why does it take such harshness for me to realize that I am given so, so much? There are a great many reason or excuses that I could give to you, but alas it is simply selfishness. I, like so many, think far more about myself than I should.

One of my first memorable Sunday school classes at my current church was lead by a man named, Mark. His statement was simple, ".. as soon as we all realize that we are on the bottom rung on the ladder and Christ is above us and we strive together to be more like and reach Him, we will all get along fine". Profound.
And ya know? On those days when I humble myself before Christ and Man are the days I feel the best and have the most peace in my heart. Each day is a gift, we are simply not promised another nor were we promised on this earth as my mother would say, a rose garden. I want to live with more passion and love with more passion and at the end of my days I want to leave a legacy that I realized that each day is a gift and acted as such, leaving no regrets!!