I'm a counter.  I count everything.  While looking at Marjorie's flower gardens it occurred to me that she has literally thousands of blossoms.  She has hundreds of plants, and each one produces bloom on top of bloom.  For about half a second I considered the possibility of numbering her blossoms, but it would be an impossibility even for me.

My next thought was that Marjorie's flowers are emblematic of my blessings.  The hymn says, "Count your many blessings," but that, too, would be impossible.

Once in a while one of my prayers seems to come from somewhere other than my own mind, and then I learn things.  I had one of those prayers several days ago.  I found myself saying, "I thank Thee for the gift Thou hast given me of ... ," and I named an item, and then repeated the line and named another gift, and then another.  It went on and on.  I was amazed--astounded--at what the Lord has done for me.  Truly, to count my many blessings would be impossible.

Why me? I ask.  It's probably because I'm grateful.