Countless Pennsylvania snowstorms, power outages, lost work, and accidents brought me low this morning. But, I wasn’t seeing the big picture at the moment. I was busy looking at the small picture of me.
After all, it seemed there was nothing more limiting than snowdrifts a few feet high except one foot adorned with cast and crutches. Yes, a torn ligament and tendonitis only added to spiraling downward.
Fretfulness seems to open the door of ingratitude and discourtesy to the grace sufficient for the day. Available every–day. It was fairly easy to fall into the trap of seeing only what I was looking at –snow and crutches.
I ran across an old blog I published a few years ago. I hope it will remind you, and me . . how we often take things for granted;
Like most mornings, I woke up at 5:30 and realized by the chime of 8 (9000 seconds later) that I hadn’t taken even one of those seconds to murmur a thank you. In the rush of moments that make up every 24 hours, I usually get caught up with life like many of us.
So, I chose one of those moments to pause before they quickly passed . . .
A window scene caused me to give thanks to the Creator for the cardinal on winter’s branch reminding me that He cares for me even more than an intricately designed mass of feathers.
Thank you God for dawn when mercies are new each day.
And for my Bible where Your voice waits within tattered leather.
For loving parents who raised me well. At the time it seemed so ordinary and expected, but I never take for granted when standing on the other side of the stone, remembering.
For families. Long ago when hours held more time, I was a keeper of the home with a house filled with the chatter of children. Now, I am a keeper of an empty nest, grateful for shelter and one who shares it. Assuming it will remain this way, as I did the house of children. Grateful for even more – grandchildren.
Breath. The one who heaves breath lying next to me reminds me it is a gift from God and He is the One who puts air into our lungs, beats into our heart. Once a machine did this for the dying husband when he fell into a coma and cheated death.
Health. Wonderfully made. Our health seems to take flight cell by cell as we greet another birthday. Reminded of times past, rejoicing when I could finally change the wet diaper of a baby son born with kidney failure. A journey of a lifetime has kept me from taking function for granted.
Feet, hands, eyesight, hearing, unending mercies. . . . Once, a son was told he would never walk again after a near fatal car crash. God said differently. Yet, not one step or motion should we assume will always be there in the same way. Age reminds me of the gift of mobility.
Taking mental inventory of our grateful list covers up our fretful list.
Snow melts, ligaments heal. I feel better! Thanks for reading with me.
How can we prevent ourselves from taking the big and the small wonderfuls for granted?
By imagining what our lives would be without them. . . . one by one.