Thank G-d

I am learning to bless the splattered coffee stains in the sink, the wet towels on the carpet, the crumpled socks on the bathroom floor.

I am learning to forgive those who pain me with their knife-like tongues, to forgive their blind eyes that may never really see.

I am beginning to accept that there is nothing in the world that is imperfect. The Rabbi explains that it's only a matter of changing our perception.

The hole in my heart when I walk into empty rooms, the moving of grandsons to St. Louis Park, our financial chaos, are all pieces of G‑d's plan.

Who am I to question? It's just that I don't understand yet, and probably never will. Yet, I take some comfort that we all struggle with the temptations of our animal soul, temptations that urge us to eat from the apple of the forbidden tree, or desire the piece of double-fudge cake.

We have choices. We can choose depression over joy, anger over forgiveness, choose to see the darkness in the impending storm, or the rainbow that follows.

I will choose to say Thank G-d, for the hairs in the sink, the occasional brush-by in the morning, the rainbow after tears.