Overlooked Blessings
“Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. 12 I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. 13 Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Philippians (Chapter 4 verses 11-13 from The Message)
Just three days from now, many of us will be sitting around a dining room table, holding hands with loved ones, indulging in our favorite holiday foods, and reveling with thanks for the abundant blessings which have been graciously sample of a cover letter bestowed upon us. Ahhh, Thanksgiving! That one day of the year when—those of us in the U.S. and Canada anyway—stop to reflect, with engorged tummies and turkey-stuffing-pumpkin-pie-and-whipped-cream-induced contentment, upon the many ways in which we feel blessed.
Most Thanksgivings find me with the need to “count my blessings,” and indeed, that is the most commonly heard “phrase of the day.” And how often have you found yourself doing just that? We have certainly, in our own family, sat around our large antique farmhouse table, and, surrounded by extended family and friends alike, quietly declared something for which we were profoundly grateful. Some years brought laughter and relief: thanks for a baby finally sleeping through the night, or a toddler getting into “big boy underwear.” Other years brought smiles and deep satisfaction: a dear friend finding a mate or announcing a pregnancy. Others brought the premonition that this might be the last Thanksgiving with a loved one who was elderly and ill. Still others brought the resignation that a new house would be our home for awhile, and as transplanted corporate people we would learn to carve out a life in a strange city, displaced from family, friends, and all things familiar.
But during this past week, I came across the phrase “overlooked blessings,” although I cannot recall where I read it or to whom it should be attributed. Nonetheless, the phrase has certainly stirred up more emotion than has the notion of “counting my blessings.” For it is profoundly more thought-provoking to conjure up blessings that have been there all along but for one reason or another have gone unrecognized. To all of a sudden be alert to hidden treasures which we’ve taken for granted. Never counted. To be startled by the diamonds in our own backyard, the
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