It is hard to realize what the gifts of the past 15 weeks represent. Even as I try to imagine a life without just one of these gifts, what it would be like to live with a brain tumor, I find myself overwhelmed by the unique place I find myself. It is hard to believe that everything has unfolded in the way that it has. My worst nightmare has become the single greatest turning point in my life. As I reflect on the path, I find myself seeing what I had missed during large periods of my life before the crisis.
God is engaged in your life and mine. I finally noticed God’s hand as I struggled with the reality of knowing that I had a tumor. Yet, as I reflect now, I can see God’s hand in my life well before this time. The fact that God usually speaks in the ordinary events of your life and mine does not excuse my deafness and blindness. We are living lives filled with God’s touch.
Bad events may not be bad, and good events are not always blessings. If I could take a fresh look, I would try to avoid describing the moment at hand. Any description tends to focus and direct my response. Ideally, I would see each moment as an opportunity to exercise freedom.
The moment at hand should be savored and appreciated. I have spent far too much time living in yesterday’s mess or preparing for what I think will happen tomorrow. Learning from yesterday and letting go of tomorrow are the best preparations I can take for making the most of the now.
At the edge of a miracle, “Peter realized it was no dream. ‘I can't believe it—this really happened! The Master sent his angel and rescued me from Herod's vicious little production and the spectacle the Jewish mob was looking forward to.’” (Acts 12.11) Peter embraced a fresh approach in that moment.
You and I are gifted with fresh dawn. What happens next is our story as told by our movements.
