counting-my-blessings-with-a-heavy-heart

This week, I had every intention of writing a lighthearted post. Something about transitioning back to the rhythm of everyday life after a weekend of rest and relaxation. I had the words written, the tone set, and the message ready to go.

But then… life shifted.

Over the weekend, devastating news began to ripple out from Kerrville, Hunt, and the surrounding communities—places just a half-hour from where I live. The kind of places where life feels quiet and safe… until it doesn’t.

I know people who have been affected. And like many of us, I’ve found myself searching online for any glimmer of hope—any update, any survivor. The names, the faces, the stories—they’re not strangers. They’re our neighbors. They’re our friends. They’re us.

In times like these, it’s impossible not to feel emotionally shaken. My heart aches for the families who have lost children, parents, grandparents, even beloved pets. I think about the moms and dads waking up to a new kind of silence in their homes. I think about the first responders, doing their best to bring comfort in unimaginable circumstances. And I pray. Constantly. Because sometimes prayer is all we have.

And in the midst of that grief, I find myself doing something that feels simple—but isn’t.

I’m counting my blessings.

Not out of habit. Not as a quick fix for heartache. But because when the world feels like it’s crumbling, gratitude becomes an anchor. It’s a quiet, steady whisper reminding us of what still remains. Of who is still with us. Of how precious and fleeting this life really is.

It’s easy to take things for granted—until a tragedy reminds you just how fragile everything can be. That hug you gave your child before school. That cup of coffee shared with your spouse. That moment of laughter with a friend. They’re all blessings—small, enormous, sacred.

So today, instead of sharing a list of to-dos or a cheerful Monday mindset, I’m simply offering this:

Take a moment to pause.

To hold your people close.

To count what still surrounds you.

To pray for those who are hurting.

Let’s not wait until life is shattered to appreciate what it holds.

And if you’re like me—someone deeply impacted but unsure how to help—start here. With presence. With empathy. With prayer. With perspective.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

—Psalm 34:18

We’re all holding a little more tightly to the ones we love this week. May that awareness continue long after the headlines fade.