COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS
I feel like complaining today, like all is depressingly sad;
Questioning God, counting and recounting all that's bad.
Beat down and tired, I feel I just can't shake the funk;
How do I lay down my load and drop this heavy junk?
God's been good to me, but I quickly seem to forget;
Why does it seem like my eyes are perpetually wet?
But when I force myself to clap and push out a praise;
My countenance lifts and I see, there is no longer a haze.
When I count my blessings, they seem to start stacking;
Then I realize that thankfulness is what I was lacking.
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