This life.

Man.  This life.

I was listening to an interview yesterday and the person being interviewed was talking about his father.  He described how his dad survived the holocaust in a hole for two years and that when the Russians liberated him his legs were so atrophied he had to be carried.  He also described his fathers battle cancer and his last days.  He said that the holocaust had made his father a gentler man.  That after making it through that, that the rest of his life was a gift.

I think life is a gift that we never give any thanks for.  I am not talking about thanking a god, or whatever you do.  I am just talking about stopping and realizing you are alive.  You are alive in a huge universe.  You get to listen to music.  You get to have a family and laugh with friends.  Look up at night and see the stars spinning silently up there.  Do some research and see where we sit in this universe and marvel at the mystery of it.  It doesn't matter your beliefs, it is still a gift and a mystery.

We don't just exist for a single minded purpose.

How many faces over the millennia have looked up at those same stars and wondered?  How many have had hopes and dreams?  Countless.  The same people that left their hand prints on cave walls tens of thousands of years ago looked at those same stars.  They held their children close and hoped and fought for their future.  They grieved and felt loss.
This last weekend I got to go camping with my boy.  On the second night we just sat by the campfire and looked up and talked about those stars.  We marveled at how many there were.  We talked about where the earth is in this universe and how small and insignificant we are, and therefore, special.  We were gifted that moment in time.  Out there alone with him I felt we were on our own little platform and nothing else existed at the time.