Lucky all these years or truly blessed?

I don't consider myself a superstitious person, but I learned today I was practicing one superstition wrong for many years.


I pick up pennies and other coins from the ground whenever I come across them, for good luck. It's something I've done for so long I can't remember when I started the habit.  I'm not a big believer in luck, and I am not a follower of superstitious thought. I avoid walking under ladders, but that's just good sense. I don't throw salt over my shoulder, and I am not afraid of black cats.


I came across a penny this morning at work, and bent over to pick it up. A coworker stopped me and asked if the coin was facing "heads" up or was I seeing the "tail"? I took a closer look and reported seeing the tail. My coworker insisted I leave the coin on the floor and walk away from it. I should only pick up coins when the "head" was facing up, he advised. "Those are the lucky ones," he assured me.


I had not heard his version of lucky coins before, but didn't challenge it. My immediate thought was he might be right. My lucky cup hasn't been overflowing with good fortune, I thought, even though I have picked up coins of all types for decades. 


The more I thought about my friend's view of lucky coins, the more I realized that my fortune has been pretty good over the years. And the more I thought about, the more I realized how truly blessed, not lucky, I've been.


I've been blessed with good health most of my years. I enjoy safe shelter, I am surrounded by people I love and admire, and I have plenty to eat. I enjoy many common comforts, and the people I love enjoy good health. I'm doing pretty well, by most standards. Yes, many are doing much better based upon society's measurements, but a great many more are not as well off as me.


I give thanks for each of my many blessings, and I will continue to pick up coins without worrying which side is facing up.

These are the things I ponder as I travel a westward road. 

—Thank you for reading. Please email questions and comments to kbotterman@hotmail.com.

A sacred ritual and the march of time

 

 

Pastor Steve baptized a baby girl at the start of our worship service this morning, and the congregation welcomed her in to the Christian community.

I always enjoy watching a baptism being performed. I find a sense of peace and joy in witnessing a simple, but enduring tradition that binds families and generations. The ritual is one of those symbolic threads that winds its way through time and across centuries.

Time and its passing is what I was thinking about as I watched today’s service. I was moved by the memories of my daughter’s baptism in January of 1996. Family members, immediate and extended, joined us in celebrating Meg’s baptism. Aunts, grandmothers, uncles, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews, cousins, and many close friends crowded into our small house for the special occasion.

Meg is completing her final year at college and will graduate in May. I thought about that and the many other special dates that marked Meg’s journey from childhood to adulthood. Once again I was humbled my time’s swift passing and awed by the many blessings I have witnessed through my daughter. And life is good.




Thanks for reading. Send comments and questions to kbotterman@hotmail.com.