The Gift

The Gift

“Each day of life is a glorious gift, but so few people know to live within the confines of today. Much of their energy for abundant living spills over into the timeline into tomorrows worries or past regrets. Their remaining energy is sufficient only for limping through the day, not for living it to the full.” Sarah Young, Jesus Calling.

Some mornings the devotional seems to speak directly to me. Some mornings it stops me in my tracks. Lately, my vision has become clouded by too much fear, too much worry. Too much beyond my control.

That vision problem has me forgetting the gift.

For there is a gift He leaves, one for each new day. It’s called Grace and it’s just for you and me. It’s hand delivered from God himself. He holds it out, hoping we will open it. He waits and watches in anticipation……..He can’t wait to see how we’ll like it, what we’ll do with it.

Each measure of unwrapped Grace is just right, uniquely designed for that day, because just like each day is different, each need is different. Some days I leave it sadly untouched and it saddens Him. Even though He always leaves it right where I can find it

Oh, I see my great, grand future all right. I sometimes gaze at Heaven so intently that all I can see are spots before my eyes. I have no problem seeing the big picture, it’s the years I have left I struggle with because there is only so much I can control. It’s what I can’t control that scares me to death.

I want the next few years all mapped out and boxed up like a neat package, but God never promised that. But He did promise me today. And He is showing me to look around, to gaze back at the world and know that there is Heaven here too. In those He gives me.

And while the ticker tape of yesterday was fresh in my mind. I wrote the gifts down. Because blogging and praying is one thing. Sometimes you need to write it down so you can pick it up and hold it in your hands, and remember.

With my eyes closed and tears of gratitude, I saw the gift of today. It was sitting on a wicker porch swing, which rested on a big wooden wraparound porch of white. It was a big, square pink box with a grand yellow bow. The cushion it rested on was green with flowers.

And as I approached, I saw Jesus peeking through the lace curtains, smiling.

“Go on,” He said. “Open it. I made sure it was just your size.”

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