I woke up this morning with the sun in my eyes,
And thought, “What a gift to see blue in the skies.”
But then came a whisper, so gentle and true,
“Be thankful for more than what’s easy to view.”
We thank him for blessings we easily see,
But miss all the moments that quietly be.
A laugh, or a breath, or the peace in the night—
Small things reveal God when we see just right.
Some people count money, trophies, or fame,
But joy can’t be stored in a fortune or name.
For what is the point of a mountain of gold,
If hearts lose the warmth that can never be sold?
God’s gifts aren’t shiny or wrapped up in bows.
They bloom in the soul like the Easter lily grows.
The presence of the Spirit and his whispering voice—
Are treasures that give us endless reasons to rejoice.
The world may chase power and status and stuff,
But those things all rust when the journey gets rough.
In Heaven’s great Kingdom, the greatest of all
Are those who are servants, hearing God’s call.
A wrench in a toolbox seems humble and small,
But used at the right moment—it matters to all.
So each of our gifts has a time, place, and plan,
Designed by the Lord since the world began.
When praises are sung when the heart isn’t near,
They echo like cymbals that God doesn’t hear.
Yet thanks from our spirit, so honest and real,
Can be heard in Heaven with joy you can feel.
Count all your blessings. Don’t stop at just one.
There are thousands since your life has begun.
And if you can’t find the words for gratitude’s song,
Keep saying thank you with passion—fresh and strong.
