BUCKING THE SYSTEM: THANKING GOD AND COUNTING BLESSINGS: REMEMBERING EARLY LESSONS

The women in my life have always taught me to count my blessings.

Momma Mable, my baby sitter/surrogate grandmother, taught that lesson daily in my early years. Each morning she would pour herself a cup of coffee and give me a saucer of milk-coffee, humming all the while, as we prepared to listen to her favorite gospel station on the portable radio in her kitchen.

In her mind, life was to be celebrated. It didn't matter if she was feeling poorly or moving slower than normal. The fact was she was here, and the least she could do was share something, even a smile, with someone else.

Ma Dear, my maternal grandmother, also taught me to appreciate God's power each time she closed the door to her room and fell down on her arthritic knees to pray. "It doesn't matter how you do it, as long as you thank Him everyday," she told me when I asked why she performed her daily routine.

And then there is my mother, who always quietly reaffirms her religious beliefs with a pat or hug, or a simple "thank you Jesus." Mom taught me to trust my first instinct, which is really God nudging me in the right direction.

Although I trusted each of these women completely, there have been times when I didn't follow their advice. Sometimes I got too busy to pray a heartfelt prayer and settled for the quickie, pat one I learned as a 6-year old. Sometimes I accentuated the negative, nitpicking about inconsequential things just to get at another person. And sometimes, I forgot to trust my first instinct, opting instead to do what I thought would get me the most and quickest return.

This week, however, I've been forced to follow the teachings of Mom, Ma Dear and Momma Mable. Their advice has been with me throughout this week as I've tried to recover from a house fire that wiped out my family's belongings.

Because of them, I haven't reflected too much on the damage that was done to my home. Instead, I've reflected on the blessings, and believe me, there were many of them.

For example, no one was injured, and we lost few of the boys' summer clothes. We also will salvage nearly all of my family pictures.

Despite the fact we'll be displaced for the next several months, at least we had insurance coverage to help us rebuild and recover most of our losses. It could have been much worse, even just a few weeks ago.

Those are the most immediate things I have to be thankful for, which some people would allow their losses to keep them from celebrating. But as I reflect on my blessings, I also must be thankful for one more thing: the prayers, gifts and words of encouragement my family have received from our community.

All too often, people want to reflect negatively on our community. They talk about how this person isn't doing this, or how people only help certain types of people.

Well, I have been amazed this week by the outpouring of support our family has received. People whom I've never met or have only worked with professionally have provided encouragement and support in a number of ways, and I have been humbled by their efforts to assist us.

It all makes me realize that Mom, Momma Mable and Ma Dear were right when they told me to count my blessings or that God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes it takes a near-tragedy to make us sit still so God can do His work.