I need something to remind me that happiness is a gift, not a right. Pain does that quite expertly.

If left to my own simplistic devices and the sorely scant limits of my abilities, would I not die a death of the blandest sort imaginable? And should I not thank God that He graciously gifted me with an imagination that renders such a death entirely unimaginable?

We may not necessarily be all that gifted, but we certainly have passion. And maybe we should start understanding that passion is a gift of such importance that without it any other gift doesn’t matter. Therefore, we are gifted indeed.

Life doesn’t owe me. However, it liberally gifts me.