“Each day’s a gift but not a given.”


Every once in a while I’ll stumble on something, stopping dead in my tracks. Like a few years ago, one evening at Park. “We wait too long…” the poem read.

“….To do what must be done today, in a world which gives us only one day at a time without any assurance of tomorrow…”

The words, even then, struck a chord.

“…Lamenting that our days are few, we procrastinate as though we had an endless supply of time…”


The ensuing morning I shot back to temple, copied the page and deftly tucked it in the rubber bands of my wallet. Frayed by time, it remains my mobile reminder that time is but a gift.

“We wait too long to discipline ourselves…to show love that may not be needed tomorrow…”

Do others get what I get: that all we have is today? Do others know how precious our time is, how vulnerable we ALL are. Don’t they see? I’m dying to scream “What the F#!* are you waiting for?” but think better, keeping to “my side of the street.”

What about me, then? It was a good year, but have I totally ceased waiting? Sure, my spirit soars and yes, my faith is strong. Is that enough? There’s weight to lose, friendship to forge and, OK, once again…can I please try to be nicer to my aunt?

“…To work at self-renewal…To read the books, listen to the music, see the art…”

I grow or I go. Fair question, then: What do I still delay? With the much I do right, the query remains: are there yet things for which I wait too long?

Clinging to family, cherishing friends, I read, write, pray and play. I am “low-maintenance,” content and open. Is that enough?

The new year, as each before, holds promise. Hal is mending, the babies are growing and I am reaching… Answers will come, I sense, if my house is in order.

It is.

So let the hours count down in gratitude. When midnight comes I’ll make my calls: to the kids, the brother, the aunt…and I’ll recall again the poem’s last line: “God too is waiting…for us to stop waiting….”


  1. m says:

    “What the F#!* are you waiting for?” but think better, keeping to “my side of the street.” I get this. I’m looking both ways and getting ready to cross the street. I’m going to stop waiting…. I think I’m going to stop waiting.

  2. Unknown says:

    Maybe you shouldn’t stay on your side of the street…just when you think it is best, you may learn it was your biggest regret and too late. Tell her to wake up – you know you want. God bless.

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