Different

Every day I just wish that a new day could be a new day.

But sometimes it never is, is it? To me, every moment has a newness of its own. . .and every day is a new chance to praise my God and bless lives. . .Whether or not I accomplish that by the time I'm back in bed again is not always the same answer. . .but when the sunrise comes back again, it's time for another chance.

I like sunrises more than sunsets. Because sunsets mean it's all over. But sunrises are just the beginning. . .anything is possible with a sunrise. You have the whole day ahead of you. You have potential. You have newness.

But when you are given this gift, and the very next day is exactly the same. . .even if you keep hoping for an eventual change, will it ever come? If the tone isn't set right off the bat, is there any hope for newness?

I'm aching all over, from nothing.

From nothing ever changing. I wonder how long frail and fading hope will hold out before it all falls to pieces.