Another chance to be grateful

Isn't it interesting how the smallest circumstance can cause a shift in your thinking?

Not long ago, the events of one morning conspired to prevent me from taking a shower. Nothing was wrong, really; I just wasn't able to bathe before I needed to be dressed and out and about. I'd taken a shower the morning before; I wasn't disgustingly dirty or stinky. I just wasn't freshly clean.

By midday I felt sticky and itchy. Oh, how I longed to smell fresh and soapy. I wanted my skin to feel smooth and satiny. I coveted a deep breath of the aroma of a freshly-laundered towel.

In a word, I was cranky.

So I took myself off to my nice, big, clean shower. I stood under the steady stream of steaming hot water. I lathered up lavishly with my fragrant body wash. All was right with my world again. "Boy, I'm thankful for a good shower," I thought to myself.

And then it hit me: the ugly truth, right square between the eyes. Actually, I'm not at all thankful for a good shower. To tell the truth, I rarely give it a second thought. Only on a day when I was prevented from having it at the usual time did I stop to realize what a blessing a bath is.

How many, I wondered, how many busy women just like me would love to be able to bathe once a week? Even once a month?? How many would give nearly anything to stand in a shower of clean, hot water? How many would consider it the height of indulgence to wash their bodies with the soap I use every single day?

I am struck by the fact that this everyday blessing which I take so lightly is actually a great luxury. I think wryly to myself that there's nothing wrong with me that flood or fire wouldn't cure. And then I wince at the knowledge that there are millions who have endured flood or fire or even worse, while I sit here securely in my nice snug house.

Dear God, what would I have left if I were to lose all the things for which I never stop to give thanks? I realize now that I must begin my prayer of thanksgiving with one of confession.

I never intended to be blasé and complacent. I didn't mean to be ungrateful. I realize now that ease has affected my perspective. I spend too much time thinking of all the things I don't have and not nearly enough time being grateful for all that I do have.

I want my perspective to change—indeed, I need my perspective to change. Dear God, I confess my poor attitude, my thankless heart, my ungrateful spirit. Change me, Lord.

How about you? Are you, like me, grateful for another chance to be grateful?

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