Because of "corporate downsizing", I've been thrust into an environment of sadness and despair. Many people are walking around like the world is ending very soon. Like death is eminent. The days have grown long. At times I have difficulty wanting to walk into the building. So I've begun to talk to God and myself a lot more.What are the miracles in my day? The mere fact that I have a day is a miracle that isn't promised to all people. The fact that I wake up each morning unaided by an alarm. The fact that once I'm awake, I can open up my eyes and see the sunlight peaking through my window. I can hear the weather man as he tells me to grab a jacket on my way out. I can climb out of bed without a cane or wheelchair. The bed I sleep in is indoors. It is inside of the 4 walls of a house that is ours, well, technically we borrow it from the bank.
When I walk into the bathroom, like magic, the lights come on. In the shower, warm water cascades. When I wake up my daughter for school, she sits up on her own and stretches as she comes to life each morning. She performs well in school. Our fridge has food. Our car is owned and has gas in the tank (most mornings). I drive her to school and me to work accident free. When I arrive at my job my badge works as I swipe in signaling another day closer to payday.
Although the list could go on for hours, it isn't necessary. The routine of our days may seem endless at times, but many people would kill for a routine of any kind. For the parent of a severely ill child, routine is comforting and coveted. So let us stop complaining and feeling sorry for ourselves, let's pause and contemplate the miracles of our day. They may seem insignificant, but try living life without them.
Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/hemflock/
