"Counting Every Blessing," by Rend Collective swelled on the car radio as my son and I drove through town. Kinda listening to the music and mostly lost in my thoughts, I zoned in when the voice in the backseat asked,"Why don't we count our blessings?"
"Good idea, buddy. We definitely should. Want to count some now?"
"Yeah," he answered.
"OK, what do we have? Let's see, friends are a blessing." We were on our way to join friends for some fun at the revamped historical museum.
"Candy!" yelled out the boisterous boy. "I'm thankful for candy."
"OK, candy is nice but is it something you just want or something that is really a blessing?" I tried to get us on track. "How about a nice warm house to sleep in?"
"Yeah, I hope we don't move," my son sounded concerned. "How would we move everything?"
"Well, we might move someday, but not now. We'd just pack stuff in boxes. And put stuff in a big truck. Remember the moving truck that your grandparents packed?"
"It was a big truck."
"We also have clean water to drink," I continued. "That's a blessing."
"It doesn't have leaves in it," came the confirmation.
"Right, and no nasty chemicals," I hoped. "So, I guess I haven't been counting. How many blessings did we say?" We went back and counted. Then it was quiet for a little bit.
"I liked when I was three and Daddy could pick me up and walk me on the ceiling."
I smiled as we turned into the parking lot. "That was very fun, wasn't it? I bet you could ask him if he could still do that."
"But he isn't feeling good right now," my boy replied thoughtfully. His daddy had a headache. "I don't want him to walk me on the ceiling because he needs more rest. Is that a nice thing?"
"Yes, buddy, that's very kind of you."
As we got out of the car I made sure to count one more blessing: this boy.