April 12: Remarkable Quality, Fifteen Bob, Blessed

...It was a remarkable quality of the Ghost (which Scrooge had observed at the baker's), that notwithstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease; and that he stood beneath a low roof quite as gracefully and like a supernatural creature, as it was possible he could have done in any lofty hall.

And perhaps it was the pleasure the good Spirit had in showing off this power of his, or else it was his own kind, generous, hearty nature, and his sympathy with all poor men, that led him straight to Scrooge's clerk's; for there he went, and took Scrooge with him, holding to his robe; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's dwelling with the sprinklings of his torch.  Think of that!  Bob had but fifteen "Bob" a-week himself; he pocketed on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his Christian name; and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed his four-roomed house!

I know you're probably sick of me writing about being grateful for the blessings in my life.  I think the reason I keep coming back to this subject is pretty simple:  I fall into the trap of feeling sorry for myself all the time.  I start focusing on finances, or the size of my house in comparison to the size of my family, and suddenly I'm caught in a spiral of negativity.  If I let it go long enough, I practically have to gnaw off my foot to escape.

Butter my butt and call me blessed!

Most people are like me in this respect.  It's easy to get wound up in the problems of life--bills, marital issues, school, whatever--and forget about the good things.  Scrooge is amazed at the Cratchit family's ability to celebrate Christmas in the face of abject poverty.  The goose is small.  The house is tiny.  Tiny Tim is critically ill.  Bob's salary is inadequate.  Yet, the Ghost of Christmas Present blesses the Cratchits, squeezes the bulk of his supernatural goodwill into the Cratchit abode.  And that's the miracle.  Goodwill fits in any space.

I am not Bob Cratchit.  I make a little more than fifteen bob a-week.  I don't have a sick child.  Our house, though small, is warm and keeps out the snow and rain.  When the Ghost of Christmas Present happens to stop on my threshold, he sprinkles my family with his torch.  We have a good life.  We have food and clothing.  In a few weeks, we're all going on a trip together.  I just need to remind myself of these facts.  These blessings.

Join Saint Marty in this little mantra:  "I am blessed.  Ooommmmmm.  I am blessed.  Ooommmmmm.  I wish I was more blessed.  Ooommmmm.  I wish I had more money.  Ooommmmmm.  I wish I had a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house.  Ooommmmm..."