Given to Ingratitude

 

Ingratitude. That is the word you are never supposed to say in relation to your feelings at this time of year. However, I always think I am entitled to a spirit of ingratitude at this time of year. Not because I do not like Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving. I do not like cold. On mornings like today, I am always reluctant to get out of bed because it is cold. Well, it is cold outside. In my room I bask in a balmy seventy degrees while lying in my warm bed bundled up in flannel pajamas and wool socks. And when I finally do crawl out of bed, I get to stumble into the kitchen where I can pour myself a cup of hot coffee and eat hot oatmeal.
  While going outside into the thirty-five degree weather is by no means pleasant. I certainly am not suffering inside. The burden of ingratitude I have shouldered is what makes life miserable, not my circumstances. I ought to be grateful for the cold, because if nothing else it amplifies the extent of the blessings God has given me.