Confession 4: What I Take For Granted

I take a lot for granted. I’m generally pretty aware of this, but there are times when the realization of what I take for granted jars me. Yesterday was one of those days. It was snowing most of the day, light snow, but with enough accumulation to make the commute a bit of a mess. My husband called to report on traffic in our area, and told me that there had been a fatal car accident at the intersection of highway and city street two blocks from where we live. It’s a familiar intersection to me, one I cross almost every day in my commute. The thought occurred to me that there was possibly someone in our neighborhood who wouldn’t be coming home from work. And I realized then, very clearly, how much I take for granted.

I take for granted that I will arrive home safely each evening. I take for granted that I will come home and have a roof over my head, even if it leaks a bit. I take for granted that there will be food to eat whenever I’m hungry, and sometimes even when I’m not. I take for granted that my paycheck will come every two weeks. I take for granted that my son will always be safe and healthy. I take for granted that when I reach out to touch my husband during the night, he will always be there. I take for granted when I call my parents that both of them will always be on the other end of the line. I take for granted that my sister is only 15 minutes away. I take for granted that my friends will always be there, even if we don’t stay in contact as much as we should. I take for granted that I will grow old, and that my husband will grow old with me.

Yet, the truth is, none of these things are promised to me each day. They’re little blessings and miracles that surround me all the time, and that should make each day I have with them all the more special.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

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