I sat yesterday morning, in the coolness of the dawn, with the warmth of a fevered baby's head resting on my chest.
We sat, the two of us, in a chair settled on uneven ground in the small piece of land we call our own, the one protruding ever so slightly from behind our home.
The two of us, snuggled together, facing east as the first brilliant strokes of color emanated from the skyline just over the fence, behind a tree, still black against the dawning rays.
Slowly and ever so brilliantly our two pairs of eyes watched the colors of the morning emerge.
I thought of my camera.
Should I grab it? Shouldn't I capture this beauty in its lens? Because who can allow such exquisite handiwork to go to waste?
But then, is it really wasted on our two pairs of eyes?
Is not appreciating it, this one moment in time, enough?
Will God not be so good as to produce another sunrise tomorrow? And the next day?
Are His mercies not new every morning?
And yet I strive, ever backwards, like cupped hands trying to stop the water flowing, trying to hold on to just a little, as if this will be the last sweet sip ever offered before the stream is cut off forever.
I try to capture it all, remember it all, hold on to it all.
Because each moment is precious.
But, then, if this moment is so precious, can I not trust the next to be just as precious?
Can I not trust that the moving forward will bring new beauty, new moments, new mercies?
I can get stuck in hoarding the memories rather than living the moments.
Will God not be so good as to bring another blessing tomorrow? And if tomorrow never comes - was today wasted?
Certainly not. Let not any day enjoyed, lived, and shared, be considered a waste - no matter the work left undone, the tasks neglected or the minutes missed.
Every day is grace. Don't miss it.
989. The first blushes of pink on the morning clouds
990. The way clouds float in layers - one speeding along, the other standing still
991. A sickie baby snuggled in my arms as we watch the sunrise together
992. Children chasing after one another in joy
993. My kids, all three, giggling together