July 15: Blessings, Classic Saint Marty, Blueberry Picking

I have felt very blessed today.  Church in the morning.  This afternoon, I drove out to some great friends' house to pick blueberries with my daughter and her boyfriend.  My friends have ten acres of prime blueberry country along Lake Superior.  We had a wonderful time, despite it being close to 102 degrees in the patches where we were picking.  And then, to cool off, we went swimming in Lake Superior for about an hour.

Like I said, it was a day full of blessings.

Four years ago, I was focusing on my blessings, as well:

July 15, 2014:  A Whole Noodle, Finding Blessings, Giving Thanks

Wilbur ate heartily.  He planned to leave half a noodle and a few drops of milk for Templeton.  Then he remembered that the rat had been useful in saving Charlotte's life, and that Charlotte was trying to save his life.  So he left a whole noodle, instead of a half.

Wilbur struggles with his feelings for Templeton.  After all, the rat doesn't do a whole lot to make himself likeable.  He steals food and prowls the garbage dump.  Templeton is a rat, and E. B. White didn't have a great fondness for rats.  But White makes Templeton a hero.  Wilbur knows that Charlotte would have ended up in Avery's bug collection if it hadn't been for Templeton's buried rotten goose egg.  The little pig recognizes that the rat has been a blessing, and Wilbur gives thanks.

Sometimes it's hard to recognize blessings, especially if you're a natural pessimist, like me.  Right now, I could complain that I'm tired, that I don't have enough money to pay for my daughter's braces, that I just received another shut-off notice from a utility company.  I'm great at complaining, because modern society is geared toward making people feel inadequate.  I'm not thin enough.  My house isn't big enough.  My car isn't new enough.  I don't look like Brad Pitt or George Clooney.

Yet, blessings are all around me.  I have a job.  I work with good people.  My kids are healthy.  My car is in good shape.  My house doesn't have mice.  There's food in my refrigerator.  I sometimes get to do things I love--read my poetry, play in a band, have friends over to talk about books.  Eat an occasional brownie.  So, I really am blessed.  I have enough.  Just enough.

My prayer focus this week is giving thanks, every day.  Thanks for the good things and the bad things, because bad things (like rats) can sometimes be the catalyst of grace.

Repeat after Saint Marty:  "I am blessed.  I am blessed.  I am blessed."

A blessing for a disease-carrying, filthy rodent.

Tonight, I'm going to be working on poems for a Bigfoot Poetry Reading that I'm giving tomorrow night.  

Saint Marty is the most blessed person in the world tonight.