I write lists.
I make check boxes.
I watch the clock.
I squeeze every moment.
I fill the day.
And I look up at the end. What have I done? I am tired and dry. My brain hurts. My mind in knots. I am useless by the time the sun sets. I’ve filled my day with stuff.
I forget to breathe.
I’m folding laundry, I slow down and think. Look down at the hand-towel in my hands. I take a deep breath. God gave that to me. I smile and breathe again. I look up and see life slow.
This is a day. This is an hour. This is a moment.
This is a gift.
I close my eyes and let it fill me. Let it run over me as I contemplate the holiness, the beauty, the sacred grace of my heartbeat. This 24 hour cycle in which we humans craft our lives, each one is new, a snapshot in the midst of eternity.
Seize the day. Live every day as it is your last.
I misunderstood and thought it meant to do all that you could in the day.
I thought it meant utilizing every moment for ‘getting stuff done’.
I was blinded by the lie of rushing, scurrying to prove oneself as worthy through accomplishment.
When all it really meant was live.
Touch. Smell. Taste. See. Hear.
The goodness of the Lord.
Every day is a grace, not another assignment.
It is a gift to be cherished, not to be used up.
When the last comes and you look back…what will you remember?
I’m slowly learning to stop filling the day with my own ideas.
I’m learning to breathe. And let the day fill me with its graces.
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.
This post originally appeared on Amy’s blog: A Heart Surrendered.