Power of Gratitude reminded me to breathe—yesterday wasn’t great. I reversed into my husband’s car in the dark. Didn’t see it. Left a dent. Stress followed.

I was sorry. To be honest, I missed it. It is challenging to see out of my car’s mirrors since they seem to point downward when I put it in reverse. When I back up, I have to gaze at this tiny screen, and it is difficult to see obstacles in the dark. I simply cannot adjust to it.

So I gave it a shot. I backed up cautiously, placed the car in reverse, and suddenly there was a crunch. I heard it. Ouch.

I grudgingly opened the door, glanced back, and inspected the wreckage, terrified of the devastation I had wrought. I could see right away he would not be pleased.

As I gently imparted the news to him, I pictured steam gushing out of his ears.

A huge chasm started to emerge between us for the remainder of the evening. Concerns about paying for repairs, battling rising insurance premiums, and finding the money to cover the deductible turned into a crisis. We did not talk before bed, which made me feel sorry for myself and start crying since I was sad and guilty.

What could possibly go wrong? First the septic, then the furnace, then the power issue, and finally the vehicle. It really does pour when it rains. Why can not we simply have it easy for once? Is that asking for too much?

The power of our thoughts is immense. They have the ability to immediately trigger a series of intense, overpowering emotions.

Then, this morning, I found out about a friend of mine—a beloved mother, wife, and lady in our community—who had recently lost a young adult kid in a vehicle accident.

All of my concerns about denting the car quickly seemed absurd.

In an instant, perspective returned to me, bringing me back to the present.

I had visited that place. I was that mother whose child passed away. As I lay helpless in our wrecked and mangled car, I had made that dreaded phone call.

She was flown to the trauma center from the accident scene eight years ago, while I was taken to a nearby hospital in an ambulance. We had touched, talked, and held each other the day before. It seems like yesterday at times.

I could relate to this recently bereaved mother’s feelings, so I started crying. I swallowed the lump that was starting to grow in my throat as I was reminded of the day that changed my life—the accident with my kids.

A few seconds later, I found myself holding my breath as I suddenly came to a halt and prayed for her and her family.

The biggest heartache is learning that your cherished kid has passed away. It is a crippling, paralyzing state that makes you scream in horror and bewilderment and makes you feel like you are suffocating.

And when you struggle to wake up from such a terrible dream, this can go on for months or even years.

I have a heavy heart. This difficult, terrifying journey that was imposed upon this woman on this wintry morning is unfair.

It was her child today; tomorrow it will be the father, mother, brother, sister, son, or daughter of someone else.

It is unaware of discrimination. Nobody is exempt. Sadness. Loss. At some time in our lives, they will unexpectedly come across us and drag us into a pit of sorrow and heartache. Then what?

My aim is to pause and look for thankfulness in the midst of life’s everyday stress, strain, and difficulties. Being alive at all is a blessing.

Give thanks that you have a car to fix, even if it is broken.

Recognize how fortunate you are to have a home at all and express gratitude for that costly and essential repair.

Thank God it pays the expenses for those hard work.

Remember how lovely the day of their birth was, and express gratitude for their strong personality for that tired child.

Get perspective. Accept it. Observe with awe and optimism for the future.

Spend some time appreciating the sunset’s rainbow of hues and the wildlife outside your window or the sound of the birds singing. When you and your child successfully construct that snowman, you will beam with happiness.

Regretfully, a lot of us have impaired judgment until we encounter a catastrophic event. We are lucky not to be in someone else’s shoes right now, even though our everyday struggles can be distressing. Someone who is grieving because they are battling a huge hole in their soul and have lost a piece of themselves. An indelible gap that cannot be repaired or filled.

Try it with me, then.

Put an end to your actions. Step back and try to put yourself in another person’s shoes. There might be someone you know who has lost a loved one. Recognize their loss and the path of deep sadness they must now take, even if you may not understand. It is not simple.

Take a deep breath, enjoy the sunshine, and keep in mind that there are a lot of people who would be really grateful to be in your position right now. You are fortunate in spite of everything.

Let us acknowledge the blessings we have been given and gain perspective when dealing with issues that seem insignificant in the big picture. This wonderful life should not be taken for granted.

Finding Gratitude in Daily Struggles

Life isn’t always easy. We face stress, disappointment, and unexpected detours that test our patience and strength. But even in the middle of those tough days, there’s a quiet power in choosing to look for something—anything—to be grateful for.

Gratitude doesn’t mean ignoring pain or pretending everything is okay. It means acknowledging the difficulty while also recognizing the small lights that still shine through the cracks. Maybe it’s a friend who checked in when you felt alone, the cup of coffee that warmed your hands on a cold morning, or just the fact that you made it through the day.

When we make a habit of noticing the good, even in hard moments, we begin to shift our mindset. Struggles become less overwhelming, and we become more grounded. Gratitude reminds us that pain and peace can exist at the same time—and that even when life is messy, it still holds moments of beauty.

So next time you’re having a hard day, pause. Look around. Find one thing—just one—to be thankful for. You might be surprised at how it softens the weight of the moment.

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