Every day is a gift

    Hello again. Last week I read 2 incredible books about how God works through our lives, Same Kind of Different as Me, and What Kind of Difference do I Make? by Ron Hall and Denver Moore.  If you have not read these, I highly recommend them.  I read them at the suggestion of my wife, Christy, and I wasn't sure what to expect.  They are quick reads at just around 200 pages each, and are simple yet profound.  It sheds light on a lot of the issues in the world, focusing primarily on homelessness.  Since I read these books last week, I have been more observant of others around me and the situations they're in.  There's a lot of people who are hurting and in need all around us.  We just have to slow down enough to look, and you can't help but notice. 

  These books got me thinking how truly blessed I am to have the life I have.  To have life period.  We have always have a roof over our heads and a meal on the table.  We never have to wonder how we will pay our bills, and whether tomorrow we will have anything to eat.  We have more than enough, and only within the past couple of years have I come to realize this. 

  This morning I woke up grumpy.  It was cold outside and the first day back to work after an awesome Thanksgiving break.  Christy was still warm and sleeping when I left the house and cranked up the bike.  I complained on the ride in to work, and pretty much told God that this was a crappy day.  It is chilly and will be raining for the next 3 days, not exactly favorable motorcyle weather for my 25 minute commute. 

  I got to work, and things got better after I prayed about it instead of just complaining about it to God.  About an hour later my phone rang and I spoke to a father who just lost his son last month.  This man was calling to see about getting rid of his son's textbooks, and you could just feel the pain in his voice.  I was pleased to be able to help him out, and gave him my condolences for his loss.  You could just tell he was on the verge of breaking down, and just trying to make it through each day.  Each day for him and his family is a painful reminder of the loss of their son. 

  As soon as I got off the phone with him, I walked outside and prayed.  I thanked God for each and every day I have on this earth, thanked Him for the very breath I breathe.  I thanked Him for the surprising ways He talks to us, even in a phone call from a stranger.  "Every good and perfect thing is from above"  James 1:17 NIV.

Thanks and God bless!