EVERY Day is a Gift

This past Wednesday, on 12.12.12, we experienced something pretty unique in the fact that the digits in the date matched in a way that won't happen again for like 989 years . . . until January 1, 3001 or "01.01.01."  If I'm going to be around for that, I think I'm going to need a good nap.  While it was kind of cool to think about the uniqueness of the calendar date assigned to this past Wednesday, at some point that afternoon I found myself wondering why such a big deal was being made of those simple digits . . . when, the truth is, EVERY day is unique because there will NEVER be another day with that exact date.  After all, there will NEVER again be a 4.23.1956, right?

That evening, I thought, "hey, that might make a profound and thought-provoking blog" . . . but I didn't get around to it.

And then less than 48 hours later came the unthinkable, tragic news out of Connecticut that has reminded us in such a sorrowful way that . . . EVERY day is a gift that should not be taken for granted.

We may never understand what kind of darkness could possibly cause someone to do what was done in Newtown, or at an Oregon mall, or at a movie theater or high school in Colorado.  We also may never know why accidents happen or illnesses take loved ones so suddenly . . . and too early.

We cannot always control what will happen around us . . . but we can determine to appreciate and make the most of each and every day that has been "gifted" to us.  Hug your kids, tell your parents how much you appreciate them, tell your spouse how much you love them . . . not just because "you never know" but because we DO know that the people in our lives are special blessings, and EVERY day is a unique gift . . . that's why it's called "the present."

As we approach Christmas and we find ourselves trying to give awesome presents to the ones we love, let's be reminded that God has given us, the ones He so loves, His presence . . . which is our hope, even when it seems that darkness surrounds us.

The following is a portion of a prayer offered in response to the Connecticut tragedy by one of my favorite authors . . . he is a pastor and his name is Max Lucado and I hope his words are a blessing:

"Dear Jesus . . . Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were night-shift workers. The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was dark. Dark with Herod's jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark with poverty. Dark with violence. Herod went on a rampage, killing babies. Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt. You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene. Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day. Won't you enter ours? We are weary of bloodshed. We, like the wise men, are looking for a star. We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger. This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us."