The life we have been given can’t be bought or bargained for. It is a gift. Every good and perfect gift comes from above, James tells us, coming down from the Father of lights in whom there is no variation or shifting shadow (1:17). If our day is indeed a gift from God, something of the Giver should be evident within that gift
Abraham Heschel said, “There is a unique kind of transparence about things and events. The world is seen through, and no veil can conceal God completely. So the pious man is ever alert to see behind this appearance of things a trace of the divine, and thus his attitude toward life is one of expectant reverence.”
It is a great loss that we awake to so many gifts on a given day, not only without opening them, but without knowing they are even there for us to open. When each of us awakes, it should be with a splash-of-cold-water-in-the-face awareness that it has been given me another day to live. To me. To others that gift has been withheld. The sun rises, but their eyes will forever be closed to its light, its beauty, its blessings. But to me another day, for whatever reason, has been given. Another day to give gifts and to receive them. To love and to be loved. To embrace God through the moments of my day, and through those moments to be embraced by Him.
Each new morning that God’s mercies dawn on us with the gift of another day, we should greet that day with an attitude of expectant reverence, as one kneeling to receive the sacrament of some holy communion, for truly it is.