Monday, 3 August 2009

Sorrow ♥ Ingratitude

Once again I was mulling over my discontent with life. The same old grumbles and complaints from ever since I could remember. And with my blood simmering, and my brow so furrowed, I clicked my tongue in disappointment and irritation.

In my heart I gave a long litany to God—not of praise, but of all the things I was upset about. And I bluntly told Him that I no longer desired to live.

I somehow wonder if God must have rolled his eyes and sighed, "Here we go again...". His little child was having another fit much like all the other 9,999,990 fits she had thrown in the last month.

He then showed me the sun— its rays pouring through my bedroom window... or at least directed my attention to it. And then I remembered His words to one of His children..."Have I loved you any less today?"

I knew the answer and was filled with remorse. He loved me the same if not more. And I had failed to thank Him for all the joys and blessings He had given me. Such ingratitude.

I knew I was unworthy of Him, and told Him so. But how does one make someone who gives loves unconditionally stop loving him or her? God's love is a free gift.

That morning, He made sure I knew that.

I said I was sorry, and He smiled.
I felt comforted.

A few days later I proceeded to write this poem:

In my selfishness, in my solipsism,
I confined myself to a place called Sadness.
There I dwelt in tears, with hands balled into fists pounding on the earth with the question, "Why?"

I have not since found the answer to,
All the sorrow that pierced me through,
But in that sad sad miserable place,
I realized something I did misplace,
It was gratitude.

Gratitude for gifts such as these:

Eyes that see rainbow colors shimmering on soap bubbles smelling of vanilla ice-cream,
Ears that hear beautiful music playing over the radio or the gentle pattering of rain in spring,
Hands to pull close the ones I so love,
Feet to carry me through the meadows and over mountains above...

And with great remorse I fell to my knees,
To count the joys I had so often missed,
When my thoughts turned to sorrow instead of sweet bliss.

May we always be grateful for these blessings we have...

***
This poem has been posted in my other blog:
http://snapartpoem.blogspot.com/2009/08/place-called-sadness.html