Taking Things For Granted

I recall what it was like to take my first shower in five months. Standing under a warm flow of clean water feeling the layers of sand roll off of my head and back was bliss. I had almost forgotten what a luxury that was. Sure, I took “field baths” in the desert, poured my used shaving water—usually cold—over my head in the morning to give a final touch to the cleaning routine. But that was a far cry from the proper shower I took at Khobar Towers in Saudi Arabia where the 1^st Infantry Division redeployed to prepare our 6,000-plus combat vehicles for redeployment to the U.S. I would command that 567-person redeployment force after having served as the Division Artillery (DIVARTY) Executive Officer during the First Gulf War. You can read all about that in my book at the link below. But I digress. 

All too often, we take things for granted. That is to say, we forget how we all live a very privileged life compared to the rest of the world where clean running water is a rare luxury. You don’t have to consider the horrors the Ukrainian people are enduring to understand that. In some places of the world—even without a raging war—there is no electric power to even run the pumps to a well. People draw their water physically and transport gallon upon gallon of it to their homes to drink, wash, cook, clean, and attempt to maintain some semblance of a healthy life. Survival is their work every day. 

Like most of you, I rose this morning and didn’t have to make a path to a remote building to engage in a hygienic routine that will not wait. I didn’t not have to transport water hundreds of yards to make the coffee that I so enjoy. (Love the stuff.)  When I awoke, I did not fumble about for a candle, or a kerosene lantern, or a flashlight with a dimming battery to find my way around the house. And yes, I have a house with a roof that doesn’t leak or permit unwanted critters to fall through cracks in my ceiling to slither around my floor until I chase them away. (I have a friend who survived that sort of thing as a missionary.) Fresh food awaited me in an electrically powered refrigerator. And natural gas piped to my home lit the fire that cooked that food. Later this morning, I will carry my garbage a mere 20 feet to a container that will be emptied into a large truck and carted away. I will have no need to burn it in a nearby open pit and suffer the malodorous effects.

Tonight, after supper, I will settle in to catch a show on my television, and then later crawl into a clean bed with a book of my choice to read myself to sleep. I will then say my prayers to my God and ask his protection for my family and me while thanking Him for His provision. I live a blessed life. And too often I take all of it for granted. 

Mind you, I have no intention of provoking guilt by making these observations. But in taking note of the deprivation of others, we can count our blessings for the conveniences we enjoy without a second thought.

In a sense, when we think those blessings are a given in life, we engage in a form of selfishness that enables us to assume wrongly that we “have it coming to us.” But for a twist of fate, my life—maybe yours as well—might have been very different, and not for the better. But I had very caring parents, all the educational opportunities I could have ever hoped for, and professional mentors who saw in me more than I saw in myself. 

They did not take for granted that I would just figure it all out for myself and be successful. They took me under their wings and coached me so that I would understand how to do things and be successful. How to lead. How to fail. How to learn from both. And how to pass that knowledge on. 

I had none of that “coming to me” based merely on my existence. No, what I had were people who came into my life and took a brash know-it-all and focused him on how to live, how to think, how to work, and how to treasure it all. And in my later years, I am truly in awe of their patience with me. They taught me much. 

If there is anything that one should never take for granted, it is the love and genuine concern that others had and have for you, even as you gray with the years.

Share on Facebook

Tweet

Follow us