A Day of Blessing

There is an old song we used to sing in church - "Count Your Blessings." I used to think it was a bit sugary and sweet. In real life, telling someone to count their blessings seems like an easy answer to complex problems. And in truth, I would not tell a person in trauma to count their blessings. Not because they couldn't find any blessings, but because they may not be ready to see them. It takes spiritual maturity to see the blessings in hard times. Jennifer Dukes Lee recently took her child to the hospital. As she says, she "handed her firstborn over to a complete stranger." I know what that is like. My youngest had to have a series of operations on her eyes before she was one-year-old. One of the most helpless feelings I've ever had was handing her to the nurse. But Jennifer found blessings all over that hospital. She writes about it in a piece she calls, "A Day of Blessing."

My Day of Blessing started well before dawn, as I lifted Lydia out of her bed and buckled her into the car seat. We headed to the surgery center, my 6-year-old in her monkey-print pajamas and I, her mother, sipping from a tall mug of strong, black coffee. We arrived in time, and I signed off on paperwork confirming Lydia's surgical procedure: Tube in right ear. Investigation of perforation in left ear. Removal of adenoids. I handed all 40 pounds of my firstborn over to a complete stranger, and the two disappeared down a long hallway, retreating behind doors to an operating room. I would see Lydia on the other side of this "routine procedure" -- routine for the doctors, but not for the moms who wait....Read More.