I’ve been checking my mailbox every evening this week with the hope of a child at Christmastime. It always happens about about three miles from home; I suddenly remember that I am expecting mail and I start smiling. Excitedly, I cruise through my neighborhood in anticipation that the mail I’m anxiously awaiting for will arrive. You see, I am waiting for a prize from The Flying Pig Marathon. I placed third in my age group, which, for major race, is a big, unexpected deal for me. The race organizers contacted me to let me know that my prize would be sent out this week, and if you don’t know me well, one thing you should know is that I love winning prizes, no matter how big or how small they might be. Prizes make me feel special.
What would happen if we could harness the same amount of enthusiasm for life that I feel when I am waiting for my special prize? Thus is the question I ask myself every night when I disappointingly find nothing from The Flying Pig in my mailbox or on my porch step. It’s funny, I feel extra special with the idea of something something waiting for me in my mailbox; how too should we feel extra special about the unexpected and wonderful things awaiting us in life?
Open up the gift that is found in being alive and in opening each day like it’s a present.