At the end of twenty-four hours,
There was still work left to be done.
Satisfaction as to the results was low.
Cheerful moments numbered, few to none.
Day after day was considered a loss.
Frustration was at an all-time high;
Confusion dominated the mental landscape.
All that was left was to heave a heavy sigh.
No solutions seem to be in sight.
Morale was bereft and sinking.
What could rally the spirit within
From this pit of mournful thinking?
Didn’t I grant you a day to live,
A chance to flourish, love, and forgive?
The miracle of life was on display,
So count it as a good day.
Every day is a blessing to be used,
Not to be squandered and abused.
If all that can be done is to plug away,
Then count it as a good day.
Each day has opportunities to achieve,
To serve Me, have faith in Me, and in Me believe.
At the end of the day, just stop and pray,
And count it as a very good day.