Photo credit: Robin Moore

Life is but a mist, a breath, a fleeting shadow, a passing breeze.

  I know this first hand, don't I? 

I am learning to make each day count, realizing our days are numbered. 

A decade ago,  that term "making each day count" would have looked a lot different than it does today. Making the most of every hour, my day would have been defined by a weighty schedule of appointments and tasks.  But today, it looks more like a long slow drink. A cancer diagnosis does that to you. Rob's day grew to a slow crawl early in his illness; he could no longer expend energy on anything outside himself and even that took everything he had. I found myself counting days and even hours, anticipating that his strength would fail him; I began to soak in every sacred moment, collecting a lifetime of memories. As a result, my rhythm dramatically changed. I learned to sit, to pray, to listen, ignoring the clock.

I look around me in this new season, very mindful of the daily race. Albeit, sometimes unavoidable, I see the toll the fast and furious takes.

I'm still crawling, but God is teaching me that I don't need to catch up with everyone else. 

A long slow drink...

His creation looks more vibrant, His Truth more powerful, His people more precious...

A deeper joy.