I'm thankful God has given us the technology where we can see

When Albert Pujols declares, “I’m thankful God has given us the technology where we can see each other through Skype on the computer. It’s not the same thing, but at least we can see each other. Imagine the time before when that wasn’t available and people had to go defend our country. It’s really hard. I go two weeks without seeing my family and I go crazy,” he is not merely speaking of wires, screens, or machines. He is speaking of the eternal ache of the human heart—the longing for connection, the hunger to see and be seen by those we love. In this testimony, his words rise above technology and become a hymn of thankfulness, a reminder that even imperfect tools of communication are blessings when measured against the silence of separation.

The origin of this gratitude lies in Pujols’ own life as both a ballplayer and a man of faith and family. His career carried him away from home, bound to the road by duty and competition, just as soldiers are bound to distant battlefields by honor and sacrifice. He confesses his own struggle when separated from his family for weeks, acknowledging the hardship of absence. Yet, he remembers that in ages past, there was no screen to bridge the distance, no face to soften the ache, only letters carried by time and the uncertainty of return. Thus his words honor not only modern blessings but also the endurance of those who suffered without them.

History gives us vivid examples of this truth. Consider the soldiers of the American Civil War, who often went months or years without seeing their loved ones, surviving only on letters that traveled slowly across battle-scarred lands. Many died with unfinished words in their pockets, never knowing if their final messages would reach home. What Pujols calls “really hard” was for them a way of life, endured with bravery but also with unbearable loneliness. How much would those men have given to see the faces of their children, if only for a moment, through a glowing screen? His gratitude reminds us to cherish what they never knew.

There is also humility in his acknowledgment: “It’s not the same thing, but at least we can see each other.” Here he speaks the truth of modern life: that technology cannot replace the warmth of an embrace, the comfort of presence, or the sound of laughter echoing in the same room. And yet, he chooses gratitude instead of complaint, rejoicing in what is given rather than mourning what is lacking. In this, he models a wisdom that many forget—that thankfulness is not about perfection, but about recognizing gifts even when they are incomplete.

This wisdom teaches us that progress, though never flawless, is still worthy of recognition. To scorn technology because it does not satisfy every longing is to miss the miracle of what it does provide. Like water carried in a cracked vessel, it may not hold everything, but it sustains life. So too with Skype and other tools of connection: they are not substitutes for presence, but they are bridges across absence, and for that we should be thankful.

From this flows a lesson for all: cherish the means of connection you are given. Do not take for granted the ability to hear a voice across oceans, to see a face across miles, to share a moment though distance separates you. Remember those who lived before us, who endured absence in silence, and let your heart be filled with gratitude rather than complaint.

Practical wisdom calls us to action: reach out to those you love, not only when it is easy but when it is hard. Use the tools of your age not for vanity or distraction, but for love and togetherness. And when distance presses upon your heart, follow Pujols’ example—do not drown in sorrow, but lift your eyes to thankfulness, remembering that even a flicker of connection is a blessing denied to countless souls before us.

Thus, in the words of Albert Pujols, we inherit a teaching both tender and heroic: that the struggle of absence can be softened by gratitude, that technology is not mere machinery but a vessel of love, and that the truest wealth is to see the faces of those we hold dear—even if only through a fragile screen. Let us carry this wisdom forward, embracing our blessings, honoring those who endured without them, and living each day in the strength of thankfulness.