Blessings

"Aufersteh'n, ja aufersteh'n wirst du . . . "

Maybe it was the wind--stiff, cold, clear and dry--unlike our usual Houston weather. The air literally changed. Everything past was blown away.

Maybe it was just the time of year--that time when boys like me who went to Sunday School remember that there is someon to whom we are speaking when we give "thanks."

Whatever it was, something told me to shake myself and change, to quit worrying and moping about my "owies" and start rejoicing about my blessings.

I went out on my evening run along the Bayou in the cold and growing darkness as a blanket of navy velvet descended on the city skyline. The glass and steel towers were illuminated from within by electricity and from without by the sun that had just dropped below the horizon. The i-pod randomly shuffled to the finale to Mahler's Symphony No. 2--The Resurrection Symphony.

Nice. Resurrection.

I am blessed that I can run at all. Some cannot. Some never have. I may not be running as fast or as far as I wanted to be running at this point, but heck, I will never run as fast and as far as I'd like.

I am blessed that I will get well at all. Some have conditions that will never heal. Some have conditions that will kill them. I just have to deal with an owie that will some day go away.

I am blessed that I am connected with so many human beings who care about me. Some must suffer more and must suffer alone.

I am blessed.

The final chorale of brass, pipe organ and chorus swelled my i-pod as I reached the Waugh Street Bridge. Against the backdrop of the bayou and the skyline, the bat colony under the bridge swooped majestically into the night sky like one large, smoky beast. The chorus sang,"Aufersteh'n, ja aufersteh'n wirst du . . . "

Rise again, yes, you shall rise again . . . .

I will. I am blessed.