My God, I did not thank You because I have so much,
but because so much of what I have has become ordinary to me,
and still, You have not taken it away.
I thank You for the things I no longer ask for,
because I have grown accustomed to finding them
whenever I open my eyes each morning.
For a home I return to,
until I began to believe that returning was something I was entitled to.
For a body that carries me through every day,
until I forgot to thank You simply because it does not hurt.
For faces I love, still where they have always been.
For voices I can still hear,
until I forgot that somewhere, someone is longing
to hear just one more word from a voice they have lost.
How many blessings do we never thank You for
simply because they never changed?
We mistake stability for something ordinary,
protection for something passing,
peace for something we deserve,
and the people we love for a permanent part of life.
Until one of them is gone.
And only then do we realize, too late,
that it was never ordinary at all.
My God, teach me not to wait for loss
to understand the value of what You have given me.
Not to wait for sickness
to understand the gift of health.
Not to wait for loneliness
to understand the blessing of companionship.
Not to wait for fear
to understand the meaning of safety.
Teach me to see the blessing while it is still here,
and to thank You for what I have stopped noticing.
Not because I am afraid of losing it,
but because I finally understand
that its staying was never something ordinary.
Perhaps the greatest of Your blessings
are the ones we do not even have the courage to call blessings,
because we have grown so accustomed to their presence
that we began to believe they were ours by right.
And how much of what we called our right
was, in truth…
mercy.
My God, I did not thank You because I have so much,
but because so much of what I have has become ordinary to me,
and still, You have not taken it away.
I thank You for the things I no longer ask for,
because I have grown accustomed to finding them
whenever I open my eyes each morning.
For a home I return to,
until I began to believe that returning was something I was entitled to.
For a body that carries me through every day,
until I forgot to thank You simply because it does not hurt.
For faces I love, still where they have always been.
For voices I can still hear,
until I forgot that somewhere, someone is longing
to hear just one more word from a voice they have lost.
How many blessings do we never thank You for
simply because they never changed?
We mistake stability for something ordinary,
protection for something passing,
peace for something we deserve,
and the people we love for a permanent part of life.
Until one of them is gone.
And only then do we realize, too late,
that it was never ordinary at all.
My God, teach me not to wait for loss
to understand the value of what You have given me.
Not to wait for sickness
to understand the gift of health.
Not to wait for loneliness
to understand the blessing of companionship.
Not to wait for fear
to understand the meaning of safety.
Teach me to see the blessing while it is still here,
and to thank You for what I have stopped noticing.
Not because I am afraid of losing it,
but because I finally understand
that its staying was never something ordinary.
Perhaps the greatest of Your blessings
are the ones we do not even have the courage to call blessings,
because we have grown so accustomed to their presence
that we began to believe they were ours by right.
And how much of what we called our right
was, in truth…
mercy.