Sometimes I am amazed at how many good things there are in my life. Things that I didn't have to choose, let alone earn. Things that I sometimes take for granted, but which are really incredibly precious. Right now, I am very thankful for my family.
For weekends when Daddy would play Lego with us and show us how to build things that seemed nigh-on impossible. For schooldays around the table, racing to finish an exercise so that I could dispell the Harry Potter enchantment I was under. For the books Mommy gave e and helped me with, until I wondered how other children survived without reading at least one book a week. For the plays and concerts and circuses we practised in the garden. For bedtime stories and Bible reading every night. For an unconditional love so tangible that even at the deepest points of teenage rebellion, I can't deny it.
I am incredibly blessed in having what so many people all over the world don't have. And I can only be incredibly grateful to my parents, my siblings, my God, for what they've given me. When I hear or read or dream about happy families, true love, and blissful childhoods, I don't have to imagine. I only have to remember.
I struggle with the fact that there's no way I can deserve all this. I have to accept it though. So I'm trying to accept that I've been blessed and pass that blessing on as much as I can.