I was sitting by the window this morning, Chance the Rapper playing in my earbuds — Blessings on repeat. That joyful hook, that bounce, that reminder that even in the hardest seasons, there’s something worth praising. And just like clockwork, my mom’s voice showed up in my head, the way it always does:

“Count your blessings.”

She’s been saying that to me for as long as I can remember. Not in the overly cheerful “just look on the bright side” kind of way. More like, “Baby, take a second and see what God’s already done for you.” I will never forget those words.

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!” — Psalm 133:1 (NKJV)

That verse came to life for me during one of my lowest points. I was in a nursing/rehab center, facing challenges that could have swallowed me whole. And yet, my family, from miles away, wrapped me up in love I could feel through every phone call, every prayer, every word of encouragement. While we were separated by miles, our hearts were close together.

It was strange, though. Some of the other residents had family just a short drive away, yet no one came. No calls. No visits. No “How are you?” I remember looking at them, feeling both heartbroken for them and grateful for my own circle. 

That’s when I understood what my mom meant. Blessings aren’t always about what you have in your hands; sometimes they’re about who holds you up when you can’t stand on your own.

Even now, I still hear Chance in my ear: “When the praises go up, the blessings come down…” And I realize, my blessings were already around me the whole time. Family. Faith. The people who show up no matter the distance.

And so, like my wise mama says — I’m counting them. Every. Single. One.

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