How could it be that the sun rises day upon day, without fail? That each breath comes in and goes out even without thought? That as I walk, my balance is perfect and I do not stumble?
These feats of constancy, miracles cloaked in everydayness.
It is a wonder that I stand upright. Why, then, do I grumble when I cannot run?
Grant me gratitude, Lord.
(Letter #2,937)
Daily Letters to God 
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