In bed, I felt warm and comfortable. I thought, why should I get up, there is nothing to get up for. I will just watch television or the dumb stuff on my tablet. My back and legs hurt,  I’m no good for anyone so I’ll just stay here in bed.

That’s exactly how I felt this morning. Then I sat up, throwing my blankets away from me, and I said out loud, “What’s the matter with me? God gave me this day! Maybe He will give me no more days but He gives me this one and not one to waste either! I should thank Him and get out of bed.”

I felt much better and began thinking about what I would do with this gift. I knew I wouldn’t waste this day. I poured myself a cup of coffee that my son had started the percolator for me before he went to work. Thank you, Ron!  Then I started writing my blog, thinking, maybe someone will read this and be blessed. We do need to think of each day as a gift. 

My son, In New Mexico, got his new artificial leg and I watched him walk for the first time in a long time. He was smiling as he took those first, hurting steps. But I know him. He doesn’t wake up like I did. Every time his doctor gave him a speck of good news, he called me, and was so excited! You too, know someone who smiles through the shadows. Let them tell you that each day is a gift from God. You will feel better and not waste your gift.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I recently returned from attending a Memorial Service honoring the life and faith of Marv Martin. It was a beautiful service with the overhead pictures showing how he lived, a man who liked to have fun but had a serious side too. He was a man who cared for everyone and everyone was his friend.

I looked over the crowd gathered in the church and I thought, There are people here from every age including little children who, I imagine, have good memories like my own did when they were little. He did love children. He had only two of them, Debbie, with his first wife Faythe, and Mark, with his second wife, Ardis. He has also welcomed grandchildren and of course every child he met.

There were 15 people at that service, that I counted anyway, that knew and loved Marv from way back in Wisconsin when he was married to his first wife. Most of them called him “Uncle Marv.” I called him my brother-in-law because Faythe was my sister. He cared for all of us and it didn’t matter whether we were related or not.

I remember when he taught my little son to walk. He would hold something in his hand. Like a toy or some sweet thing he could eat, and he’d say, “You walk over to me and I’ll give you this, Ronnie”. Ronnie took one or two steps and then got down on all fours and creep over to Marv. After all, that was faster. Marv would say, “No, you can’t have this until you walk to me.” He did this several times and finally walked all the way. That was Marv. He took all the time needed even if he had other things to do.

Maybe we should learn something from this man, Marvin Martin.