Last week, my husband and I drove to Utah. We rode in air-conditioned, leather-upholstered comfort. Even with several stops, we made the trip in less than eight hours. More than a hundred and fifty years ago, my pioneer ancestors made a much longer journey, traveling in covered wagons and handcarts.
Food was scarce, their only shelter the tarps of their wagons if they were lucky. The children collected buffalo chips to use for fires. They buried loved ones along the way, giving them shallow, often unmarked graves. Babies were born and, frequently, lost.
I found myself grumbling about the length of the trip, the discomfort of sitting for so long. When I compared my journey with that of the pioneers, I could find only admiration for them and shame for myself.
I started this blog with the express purpose of reminding myself to be more grateful. My complaints and groanings pointed out how far I have to go, not just in relation to the trip to Utah but to every aspect of my life. When am I going to focus on my blessings rather than my trials? When am I going to find the wisdom ... and the humility ... to recognize the Father's hand in my life?
I don't know.
So, for today, I am grateful for reminders that I am, indeed, blessed, even when I don't acknowledge it.
It's painful to realize how blessed I am, and how ungrateful I am.
ReplyDeleteGreat post Mom, and like many others, I too am very blessed but often fail to acknowledge those blessings in my life.
ReplyDeleteI had much the same thought several years ago when leaving Nauvoo one HOT July morning after a visit there. Driving off in the car, the a/c not working well and all I could think of was the long, hot drive home. Which - feasibly - we could make in a day. My eyes filled with tears as I remembered a cold February day when mothers - with babes in arms and children gathered around their cloaks (some with nothing but a shawl around their shoulders, I'm sure) - hastily walked across the frozen Mississippi River to find safety on the other side, their beginning journey to a new home. I felt ashamed, but very grateful for their sacrifice. I can totally understand this post... Thank you for the reminder, Jane.
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