I still mess up when it comes to preparing Benjamin. I told him that he would see his four favorite people at church on Thanksgiving, and sure enough three of them crossed his path early in the morning. But the fourth one must have come in a different door. He spent the entire service grumbling to me about her absence. I chastised myself for having set him up with expectations, and tried to enjoy the day myself. That part was easy, with the children's choir singing like a flock of birds, and the herd of horns playing traditional favorites. 

 

On our way home Benjamin admitted that he finally saw her. 

 

"I'm sorry."

 

His apology was sincere. But what was lost was his joy in the moment. Looking for what wasn't there obstructed his view of the beauty all around. 

 

Being a witness to Ben's dilemmas elucidates my own. Sort of like how you can't see spinach in your own teeth, but you sure notice it in someone else's mouth. It reminds you to look in a mirror. Reflection works with our behavior too, which similarly eludes our view. 

 

Perhaps this is why God does not routinely spell out our blessings. If one walks by too quickly we might obsess about it to the exclusion of the plethora of joys that are all around us.