Devotional 32: When Today Is the Gift

What if the life you've been waiting to enjoy is already happening today?

So often we spend our days replaying yesterday or worrying about tomorrow that we miss the gift God has already placed in our hands.

In this devotional, we'll explore Psalm 90:12 and discover that God isn't asking us to control how many years we receive—He's inviting us to faithfully steward today.

Because today isn't a rehearsal for life.

Today is the life God has entrusted to you.

🎧 BUZZSPROUT EXTENDED SHOW NOTES

📖 Scripture

Psalm 90:12

James 4:13–15

Colossians 3:23–24

1 Corinthians 6:19–20

Ephesians 5:15–16

🌿 In This Devotional

Earlier this week, we explored how caring for our health is one of the ways we love the people around us.

Today we narrow that conversation to one simple invitation:

Receive today as the gift God has already given you.

Together we'll explore:

• Why we often miss today while worrying about tomorrow

• Moses' prayer to "number our days"

• The difference between fear-based living and grateful stewardship

• Why ordinary faithfulness matters to God

• One simple question to ask before today ends

• How gratitude changes the way we care for the life we've been given

🌿 Continue the Journey

If today's conversation encouraged you, I invite you to listen to Episode 32: Health as a Gift to the People You Love.

You'll also find previous podcast episodes, devotionals, reflective workbooks, companion guides, and additional resources on the Healer & Hope Giver website.

Healing isn't built all at once.

It's built one conversation, one faithful choice, and one ordinary day at a time.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:25

Hey friends, have you ever watched a little child open a birthday present? Not the kind of child who's rushing through the pile to see what comes next. The younger ones. The ones who are completely captivated by the gift that's right in front of them. They'll pull off one little piece of tape and then another. They'll stop and look at the paper. They'll smile before they've even opened the box because they're simply enjoying the moment. Sometimes they'll spend five minutes playing with the tissue paper before they ever discover what's underneath. It's one of my favorite things to watch because children have this remarkable ability to be completely present. They're not wondering what next year's birthday will bring. They're not asking for next Christmas. They're completely absorbed in the gift that they've been given today, right now. Somewhere along the way, I think many of us lose that. We become adults who are always reaching for tomorrow. Tomorrow's responsibilities, tomorrow's deadlines, health goals, tomorrow's worries, opportunities, even tomorrow's problems. We spend so much time mentally living in a day that hasn't arrived yet that we barely notice the one we're actually living in. I catch myself doing it more often than I'd like to admit. I'll finish one project and immediately think about the next. Reach one milestone and start wondering about the next one. Solve one problem and begin worrying about another one. It's almost as if my mind is constantly trying to unwrap tomorrow's gift before I've even opened today's. Maybe you've felt that too. Maybe you've caught yourself saying things like, I'll enjoy life when? Or life will slow down when. Scripture talks about that, but sometimes without realizing it, tomorrow becomes so loud that today quietly slips by unnoticed. And that's been on my heart this week because I don't think God has asked us to live in tomorrow. He's invited us to receive today. Not because tomorrow doesn't matter, but because today is the only gift we've actually been handed. There's a verse I found myself coming back to over and over again lately. It's found in Psalm 90. Moses writes, Teach us to number our days carefully, so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts. I love that Moses doesn't ask God to give him more days. And I don't know about you, but that's not usually where my mind goes. If I'm honest, I spend a lot of time thinking about tomorrow. I wonder what the next year will look like, the goals I still want to accomplish, the projects I want to finish, the people I want to help, the places I still would love to see, the five-year plan, you know the one. I imagine conversations I hope I'll get to have years from now. There's nothing wrong with any of those things. Planning is part of stewardship. Hope is part of faith, and dreaming is part of being human. But planning for tomorrow is very different from living there. And I think many of us spend so much time mentally living in tomorrow that we quite quietly miss the gift sitting in front of us right now. Years ago, I attended a seminar where someone shared a formula for estimating how long you might live. And I honestly couldn't tell you what that formula was anymore. I've forgotten the percentages and the charts. I've forgotten almost everything that was taught to the U that day. But one question stayed with me. How do I want to spend the years that God gives me? For a long time I thought that was the question. And honestly, it's still a good question. But somewhere along the way, another question quietly replaced it. Maybe an even better question isn't how do I want to spend the years God gives me? Maybe it's how will I faithfully use today. Because the truth is, none of us knows how many years we will receive. None of us knows how many birthdays we get to celebrate. None of us knows how many ordinary Tuesdays still lie ahead. James reminds us of that when he writes, you do not know what tomorrow will bring. Instead, you should say, if the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that. I don't think James wrote those words to make us afraid. I think he wrote them to set us free from believing that we have to control tomorrow, free from believing that we have to guarantee the future, free from carrying responsibilities that God never asked us to carry. Because only one day has actually been placed into your hands today, and today is enough. Not because tomorrow doesn't matter, but because today's worries are enough for today. He walked from village to village, conversation to conversation, never appearing rushed by what came next. I've often wondered what it would have been like to sit or spend a day walking with Jesus. I don't imagine him constantly checking the time. I don't imagine him anxiously walking three towns ahead, or thinking three towns ahead, I'm sorry. He seemed remarkably present with the person standing right in front of him, the woman at the well, the blind man beside the road, the children climbing into his lap, the friends gathered around a dinner table. He gave people his attention, his presence, his time. And maybe that's one of the greatest gifts we can offer too, because presence is becoming increasingly rare. It's easy to physically be somewhere while mentally living somewhere else. Hi, everyone's got a phone. To sit across from someone we love while our minds are already thinking about the meeting after lunch, to watch the sunset while answering emails, to eat dinner while planning tomorrow, to spend today rehearsing conversations that may never happen. I've done that more times than I can count. And every once in a while I catch myself and think, wait, I don't want to miss this. Not because it's extraordinary, but because it's ordinary. And ordinary days are where most of life actually happens. Most of our lives won't be remembered because of one dramatic moment. They'll be shaped by thousands of ordinary ones. Ordinary breakfasts, ordinary walks, ordinary conversations, ordinary prayers whispered while folding laundry or driving to work. Ordinary meetings sitting on the porch. Evenings, not meetings. Ordinary evenings sitting on the porch, ordinary moments laughing with the people we love. Those ordinary moments don't always feel significant while we're living them. But one day we'll realize they were the life we were hoping to enjoy. And I wonder how many gifts God places into our ordinary days that we almost miss because we're so busy reaching for tomorrow or the next thing. I think gratitude has a remarkable way of changing how we treat the things we've been given. Imagine someone hands you something incredibly valuable. Maybe it's a family heirloom, a handwritten Bible that belonged to your grandmother or great grandmother, your grandfather's pocket watch, a quilt someone spent months making by hand. You don't toss it into the backseat of the car, you don't leave it outside in the rain, you don't treat it carelessly, not because you're afraid of it, but because you recognize its value. The way we care for something often reveals how we see it. And I wonder if that's part of what God has been inviting me to learn about health. For a long time I've thought caring for my health was mostly about changing my future. Living longer, losing weight, avoiding disease, reaching goals. And those things aren't wrong. In fact, many of them are wise. But lately motive my motivation has been quietly changing. I'm learning to care for my health because I'm grateful for the life God has already entrusted to me. And that's a very different posture. One is driven primarily by fear and the other shaped by gratitude. Fear asks, what if something bad happens? And gratitude asks, how can I faithfully care for what I've already been given? One spends all its energy chasing tomorrow and the other receives today with open hands. And honestly, that changes even the smallest of choices. Drinking another glass of water stops becoming punishment. It becomes gratitude. Taking a walk stops being about earning my worth. It becomes stewardship. Taking the medication your doctor prescribed isn't admitting failure. It's caring for a body that God has entrusted to you. Getting the rest your body needs isn't laziness. Sometimes it's one of the most faithful things you can do. Even asking for help can become an act of gratitude because you're acknowledging that your life is valuable enough to carry care for well. The action may look exactly the same from the outside, but the heart behind it is completely different. And I think God has always cared about the heart the most. Sometimes when we hear words like stewardship or faithfulness, we immediately imagine something big, a complete lifestyle change, a new routine, a fresh start, or even a long list of goals. But scripture has beautifully written or has a beautiful way of bringing us back to smaller things. Faithfulness isn't measured in giant leap, it's measured in ordinary days, ordinary choices, ordinary moments of saying yes to what God places in front of us. Colossians reminds us, whatever you do, do it enthusiastically, as something being done for the Lord and not for men. I love that Paul says whatever, because that includes things we don't usually think of as spiritual. Maybe it's making breakfast, or folding the laundry, or going for a walk, or taking a nap because your body genuinely needs one, making the doctor's appointment you've been putting off, refilling the prescription, choosing vegetables because you're thankful for your body and not angry with it, turning off your phone and having a conversation with someone you love, stepping outside for a few minutes just to notice the breeze and thank God for another day. None of those things will probably make the headlines. No one is going to applaud you for drinking another glass of water. No one's going to give you a trophy for getting enough sleep. Most of the faithful things we do are wonderfully ordinary. And maybe that's exactly why they matter, because that's where most of life is lived. Not in the extraordinary moments, but in the quiet ones, the ones that almost nobody else notices, except God. And perhaps before this day ends, faithfulness doesn't look like changing your whole life. Maybe it looks like one grateful step, one intentional choice, one small response to the gift that's already been sitting in your hands, because none of us knows how many tomorrows we'll receive. I think sometimes we underestimate ordinary faithfulness because it doesn't feel dramatic. We imagine faithfulness is something people write books about, big decisions, big sacrifices, big moments. But when I read scripture, I see something different. I see people faithfully showing up, gathering manna one morning at a time, lighting the lamps, preparing meals, walking dusty roads, praying, serving, welcoming strangers, encouraging one another. For most of the life, faith wasn't spectacular. It was or wonderfully ordinary. And perhaps that's good news for people like you and me, because most of our lives are wonderfully ordinary too. Most Tuesdays won't become part of the history books. Most Thursday afternoons won't change the world. Most evenings will simply be dinner around the table, a walk around the neighborhood, a phone call with a friend, a quiet prayer before bed, and maybe that's exactly where God delights to meet us. Not only in the extraordinary moments, but in the ordinary gifts that become holy simply because we receive them with gratitude. But this day, this conversation, this breath, this opportunity has already been given. And that's more than enough to be faithful with today. As we begin to close today, I'd love to leave you with a few questions to carry with you throughout the rest of the week. Not questions to answer perfectly, just invitations to slow down and spend a few quiet moments with God. Where do you find yourself spending more energy? Regretting yesterday or worrying about tomorrow? How often do those thoughts keep you from noticing the gift you have today? What ordinary gift has God already placed in your hands? Maybe it's your health, maybe it's a relationship, maybe it's another sunrise, maybe it's the conversation that you've been meaning to have. Maybe it's simply another opportunity to begin again. What would faithful stewardship look like before today ends? Not tomorrow, not next week, not when life slows down, but today. And finally, how might gratitude change the way you care for the life God has already entrusted to you? Sometimes wisdom doesn't begin by having all the answers. Sometimes it begins by simply noticing the gifts that you have that have been in front of us all along. Let's pray. Father, thank you for the gift of today. Thank you for this ordinary day that so easily slips past unnoticed. Thank you for the breath in our lungs, for the people you've placed in our lives, for the opportunities waiting in front of us, for the bodies you've entrusted to our care. Lord, forgive us for the times we've been so focused on yesterday's regrets or tomorrow's worries that we've forgotten to receive today's gift. Teach us what Moses prayed for so many years ago. Teach us to number our days carefully, not so we become afraid of time, but so we become grateful for it. Help us to become faithful stewards of the life you've already placed in our hands, not striving to earn more, not living out of fear, but responding with gratitude. Show us one faithful step that we can take today. Maybe it's resting, maybe it's taking a walk, maybe it's drinking another glass of water, maybe it's making a phone call to someone we love, maybe it's finally making the appointment we've been putting off, maybe it's simply sitting quietly with you for a few moments. Whatever that step is, help us to receive it as an opportunity rather than an obligation. Thank you that you never ask us to carry tomorrow before it arrives. Thank you that your grace is always present in today, and thank you for reminding us that faithfulness is often built through ordinary moments that become extraordinary because you are with us in them. We pray all of this in Jesus' name. Amen. Before we go today, I'd love to leave you with a blessing. May you receive today as the gift it already is. May you notice the ordinary moments that are so easy to overlook. May you find joy in the conversations that cannot be repeated, peace in the quiet moments that cannot be recreated, gratitude for the people who are sharing this season of life with you. May God free you from caring tomorrow before it arrives. May He gently loosen your grip on yesterday's regrets, and may He teach you to faithfully receive the gift that's already been placed into your hands. May you care well for the life he's entrusted to you, not out of fear and not out of guilt, but because gratitude has changed the way you see that gift. May your ordinary choices become quiet acts of worship. May your faithful steps become evidence of your trust in God's goodness. And may you discover a life well lived isn't built all at once. It's built one ordinary day, one faithful choice, one grateful heart, and one gift at a time. If today's devotional resonated with you, I would encourage you to go back and spend some time with episode 32, Health as a Gift to the People You Love. On Monday, we explored how caring for our health isn't ultimately about chasing perfection or controlling the future. It's about stewarding the gift and life that God has given us so we can continue showing up for the people we love. Today we've simply narrowed our focus, not to the years that we hope to receive, but to the day that we've already been given. If you're discovering these conversations for the first time, I'd also encourage you to explore some of our recent episodes on health, identity, and stewardship. Each conversation builds on the last, but each one also can stand on its own. You'll find long-form episodes, devotionals, relations reflective workbooks, companion guides, and other resources on the Healer Hope Giver website. It's a place to continue the journey at your own pace. One conversation, one reflection, one faithful step at a time. Thank you for spending today with me. If this devotional encouraged you, I'd love for you to follow the podcast in your favorite podcast app so you don't miss future conversations. And if someone came to mind while you were listening today, consider sharing this episode with them. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give someone is simply a reminder to slow down and notice the day that's already in front of them. You'll find all the previous episodes, devotionals, reflective workbooks, companion guides, and additional resources on the Healer Hope Giver website, healerhopgiver.com, all together one word. Until next time, friend, don't rush past today's gift while reaching for tomorrow's. Receive it, steward it, give thanks for it, because today isn't a rehearsal for life. Today is the life that God has entrusted to you. I'll see you on Monday.