I want to always be awake to and aware of how fortunate I am to have so much that is good in my life. I live in a world full of the beauty of nature, and I have eyes and ears to appreciate it. I live in a body that is incredibly made, and it mostly works well and enables me to do so many wonderful things. I have a mind that I can use to reason and understand so much about the world. I have the ability to interact with, communicate with, and enjoy the presence of other people. I have consciousness — I’m aware that I exist and that a universe exists in addition to me.
I want to keep my consciousness alert so that I can experience the fullness of being alive on planet earth and be continually grateful for my existence. I’m aware that I’m alive. How magnificent is that! And yet it’s very easy to slip into taking my marvelous consciousness for granted.
It’s amazing that a world full of life exists, but it’s far more amazing that human beings are aware of it, can appreciate it, can analyze and understand it, and can even explain it to each other. It’s astonishing that you can look at these marks on a screen and be conscious of the thoughts that I was thinking as I put the marks into a certain order. But that’s happening right now as you read this blog post.
I want to keep my conscious awareness active and focused on things that truly matter. I want to stay focused on “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” — the things that the Bible calls “the fruit of the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:22-23) I want to be consciously “led by the Spirit.” (Romans 8:14) The most important thing for me to carry with me all the time is the awareness that I am in the presence of the risen Jesus Christ. (Matthew 28:20)

I like having my Bible with me or within reaching distance.
Awareness isn’t just mindfulness—it’s gratitude in motion. Your desire to stay alive to the ordinary beauty of being, to feel alive on Earth and not let that slip into background noise, is a powerful act of reverence.
You remind us that consciousness itself is a gift — seeing, hearing, breathing in wonder — and that keeping it active becomes both practice and prayer. That kind of presence isn’t passive; it’s waking, again and again, to the miracle of life, even when routine tempts us into numbness.
Thank you for turning reflection into petition—for asking not for more, but to truly see what’s already here.