I was raised in a dysfunctional family. My mother suffered emotional and mental problems. I admit that it has taken a lifetime (so far) to overcome some of my own dysfunction. I also admit that I am “slightly” OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). One of the symptoms of that disorder is “counting.”
I count steps, cars in a train while waiting at a crossing, panes in a window, etc. Before my hands became arthritic, I used to love to crochet and knit because it often required counting stitches. I find counting relaxes me.
I know that probably sounds weird. I seldom even think about counting anymore, I just do it. Then this morning I woke up singing that old song “Count Your Blessings.”
“Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your blessings, see what God hath done.”
Psalm 103:2 says it this way: “Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things he does for me.” [NLT]
I never want to “forget the good things” God has done (and continues to do) for me. I want to spend my life counting them and praising the LORD for them.
