Growing up, my family ate together. Before each meal, we said grace. Grace was foremost about thanking God for the meal we were about to receive.
But grace was more than that. Grace was about being with family, about being thankful for what we had, not just on the table, but in our lives.
Dad always said grace, and he always said the same prayer at each meal, changing it only when a major event shook our family (for better or for worse). We still laugh at Dad when he says grace–we can’t help it. He’s been saying the same prayer for decades. But that same prayer is comforting. It proves to me that though my life has changed a lot, it hasn’t actually changed a lot. Dad can still say the same prayer before meals. We can still give thanks for the gifts we are about to receive, and will continue to receive, daily.
So I say grace. Maybe not before each meal anymore, maybe not out loud or to a specific God, but I say grace. Because my life is blessed, and worthy of thanks.