THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD HAS MADE…

…WHO INVITED THE WORMS?

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
I’m gonna eat some worms.
Big ones, fat ones, little tiny skinny ones.
I’m gonna eat some worms.

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Guess I’ll go eat worms,
Long, thin slimy ones, short, fat juicy ones,
Fuzzy wuzzy teeny weeny worms.

This song was written just for me.  Not only does everybody hate me, but I have problems.  Lots of problems.  The upholstery in the car is falling apart, the garden is dying, I burned the rice, taxes are due, the television is broken, I lost my favorite CD, I have mosquito bites and chigger bites on top of the mosquito biteS…should I go on?  Naw, forget it.  I’ll just eat worms.

Every once in a while, however, when I run out of worms, I do get a glimpse of my foolishness.  One early morning, while walking around the neighborhood, I tried to remind myself that life wasn’t all bad.  At least I had a house in a pretty neighborhood.  At least the morning was cool and refreshing.  The sun was out.  At least I had two healthy legs for walking.  “Hey,” I thought.  “I wonder how long I can keep thinking of things to be grateful for.  I can breathe.  I can think.  I live in the United States.  I was raised by two loving parents.  We had food in the refrigerator.  I still have food in the refrigerator.  Good food.  If I want to go out to eat tonight, I can, I have the money.  There are restaurants nearby.  The streets are safe.  No one will break into my house tonight to arrest my husband.  My eyes work.  My ears work…We work.  We have jobs.  We get paid for our jobs.”  For one full hour, on my morning walk, I was overpowered by the steady stream of things I had to be thankful for.  **

With all this thankfulness, you may be surprised that, whenever anyone asks me, “How’s your day?” I am still tempted to think of problems.  It is so easy to stop being thankful.

This year Dad brought home a story by Zig Ziglar.  Zig’s flight had been cancelled, causing him long delays at the airport.   Some people in line were pounding the counter, shouting, voices tense, demanding new flights to get them back in the air.  Others, accepted the delay calmly.  Zig was asked, “Isn’t this delay terrible?”  He responded, “Compared to what?”  Compared to a warm bath, a good book, a glass of wine, and mellow music…being stranded in the airport was definitely a loser.  Compared to being in an airplane crash…being stranded was just fine!

If I get off course, counting my troubles, I often find myself automatically asking myself, “Compared to what?”  “Isn’t this heat terrible?…Compared to what?”  “Isn’t it awful to pay $1000 for a new transmission?  Compared to what?”  Compared to having no money, no home, no food…$1000 for a new transmission is a blessing.  And I just move the transmission from the troubles column to the blessings column.

Yet…sometimes, in spite of my best efforts to keep everything under the blessings column on my balance sheet, I find myself pressed against a problem that blinds me, takes control, and threatens to take me out.  This past year has had its generous share of trials.  One of the largest has been the death of my mother, your grandmother.  You have watched your dad and me spiral downwards, talk each other out of the pits of dejection, seeking words of comfort and inspiration.  Some days we succeed.  Other days, we get out the can opener for the worms.  What a year!  Three families of our small church lost parents/spouses to cancer.  Another father/brother/son was murdered.  it is ever so tempting to slip into counting the trials…Isn’t it terrible to have to work with spiteful, hateful people?  Compared to what?

Of course, by now, knowing that I am not perfect, you can predict that I forget my good fortune more than I should.  Yes, my mind is on worms more than it should be…

Raw worms, buttered worms,

Salt and pepper, spicy WORMS,

You would think I’d tire of worms!!!

Your grandmother knew me just about as well as anyone.  She taped several sayings around her home on picture frames, on the edge of counter tops, and under glass at her office desk.  Maybe she knew I would find them as I went through her home following her death, as I struggled in making decisions on how to pass along her possessions.  Little did she expect, I imagine, that these treasured sayings would be among her most valuable possessions, being my duty and honor to pass them along to you her grandchildren:

Instead of being thankful when their cups runneth over, too many people pray for a bigger cup.                                         –unknown

Talking about your troubles is no good.  Eighty percent of your friends don’t care, and the rest are glad.                                         –Tommy Lasorda

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
–Psalm 118: 24

**See Published Story:  Blessed by Breakdowns by Jane Jimenez

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 Count Your Blessings

Text:  Johnson Oatman, Jr.
Music:  Edwin O. Excell
Performed by Guy Penrod
Performed by Irish Choir
History of Song

When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

REFRAIN:
Count your blessings, name them one by one;
Count your blessings, see what God hath done;
Count your blessings, name them one by one;
Count your many blessings, see what God hath done.

Are you ever burdened with a load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings, every doubt will fly,
And you will be singing as the days go by.

REFRAIN

When you look at others with their lands and gold,
Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold;
Count your many blessings, money cannot buy
Your reward in heaven, nor your home on high.

REFRAIN

So, amid the conflict, whether great or small,
Do not be discouraged, God is over all;
Count your many blessings, angels will attend,
Help and comfort give you to your journey’s end.

REFRAIN

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Count Your Blessings…Name Them One By One

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