When I woke up this morning, one of the first things I noticed on my phone was a severe weather warning for tomorrow. An ice storm is expected to arrive. I glanced at it, sighed a little, and quietly wished for spring to come sooner.
Looking out the kitchen window, I noticed that most of the snow had already melted. The grass, which had been pressed down under months of heavy snow, was beginning to breathe again. Patches of pale green were emerging, fragile but alive — a quiet promise that winter never has the final word.
With the morning sunlight streaming through my open blinds, a song suddenly surfaced in my mind:
Count your blessings,
Name them one by one,
Count your blessings,
See what God has done.
— Johnson Oatman Jr., 1897
The melody felt almost like a gentle whisper.
Yes, an ice storm may arrive tomorrow.
Yes, wars continue in places like Ukraine and the Middle East.
Yes, the daily news amplifies fears about what may come next.
Between storm warnings and sunlight, I return again to a simple practice: count your blessings and see what God has done.
But at the end of the day, much of this lies beyond my control.
Scripture reminds us:
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
— Matthew 6:34
So this Lent, perhaps my task is simpler than I sometimes make it.
To count the blessings within and around me.
I am thankful for the quiet signs of life returning to the earth.
Thankful for the sunlight that fills my kitchen.
Thankful for the unseen but faithful hand of God upon my family — both near and far.
Thankful for His mercy that renews itself each morning.
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning.”
— Lamentations 3:22–23
Even when the world around us feels turbulent, the deeper story of our faith remains unchanged.
The world in Jesus’ time was also filled with political tension, fear, and uncertainty — themes I reflected on in my previous post. Yet into that restless world came Christ: God made flesh, walking among us, teaching us, and ultimately giving His life for us.
“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”
— John 1:14
Through His death and Resurrection, Christ opened the path of hope.
And after His Ascension, the Holy Spirit was given — descending at Pentecost like tongues of fire (Acts 2:3), igniting the hearts of believers and guiding the Church through every generation.
That same Spirit continues to move quietly within the souls of those who welcome Him.
So today, in this small moment between winter and spring, between storm warnings and sunlight, I return again to that simple hymn:
Count your blessings.
Name them one by one.
Count your blessings
And see
what God has done.
May we never grow too busy or too worried to notice the quiet blessings God places along our path each day.
Blessings and Amen.
You are welcome to download this wallpaper and carry this simple hymn of gratitude with you wherever you go.
Be Inspired! 
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