Granted

 I'll be the first to confess, I take many things for granted, even the things that seem so easily given to us. Air and land, for one, shelter, food, and companionship. How often do we stop, think, and give thanks? Not often enough to be sure. As I write today, I look over the view and am thankful, but not always. Is gratitude constant? Must I shout from my lungs, THANK YOU, but to whom, who hears it? You do. I know you do, for you have not given up on me, you have not let your love go. For I am your child, does love from a parent ever leave, or is it ever questioned? No. Then why do people question your love? Is it because your love is based on faith? 

I just recently had this conversation a week or two ago. Can you have religion and faith, or one or the other? Does one need to have both? At times isn't easier to have religion due to its rich history and tradition. You can attend, but how many truly believe? Growing up, I saw people who I hadn't seen before in my perish ever, flock to the church, but only for Christmas or Easter. At this point, I can compare and contrast who has more faith, the once-in-a-blue-moon churchgoers or the ones who attend every Sunday and holy day of obligation. 

Sometimes it's easier to have tradition; it helps. You know it can't leave you, as well as nor can he. He is there; you just have to believe and find your faith once again. For it never left, it just seemed to have been lost, and wandering. But it's time to come home now. 

Father, I embrace you with my heart, a sinner.