We can live out our lives, and in the end realize that we never really ‘lived’ a day in our lives.

It’s not what the day holds. Rather, it’s how we hold the day.

I refuse to believe that the course of a single day represents the course of my entire life.

On that morning, the first rays of a rising sun skipped across the tips of the forested canopy as if to tickle them awake in the anticipation of a day rising. And I will tell you, sitting with God each morning has never ceased to tickle me awake in the exact same way.

Do you want to make the darkness around you seize up in fear? Pray. For prayer is the soul turning the dark of a long night into the light of a forever day.

When you sit and talk with the Creator of the Universe before the day begins, you don’t need to worry about how it will end.

Out in nature each day starts by being soft, quiet in a sacred sort of way, gentle in the act of stepping into the awaiting day, and seemingly reflective in it all. And in wondering why God shaped it that way, I have come to realize that to start the day in any other way is not to start the day.

Some days it seems that the sun never rises and that we are left wandering in a darkness so thick and palatably cold that a thousand suns could not abate it. Yet, it is not a matter of darkness or light. Rather, it’s about believing that darkness may have its day, but light has all of eternity.

I did not make this day, but God did so that I might have the privilege of letting Him use it to make me.