"So Who's Complaining"

I found the birdfeeder the other day. After several days of “warm” weather, snow piles had melted to a height over which I could now see. So who’s complaining? I saved a lot of bird seed for the last month or so. The snow receded the other day exposing a patch of winter grass in stark contrast to the white winter expanse of the past weeks. So who’s complaining? I have not had to mow the grass since the middle of December. Heavy rain the other day was able to turn my car from a salt-tinged gray to its original color. So who’s complaining? I saved money by not washing my car for several months. The weather forecast today was for the temperatures to turn sharply colder and for more snow. I erupted with complaints telling God what I thought about His meteorological plans! Why do I have to endure the cold? Why more snow? Why can’t we have an early spring? Why can’t I put away the winter coats? Why have I not won an all-expense paid trip to a warm tropical isle? So who’s complaining? Me!!

            I began to think there must be a direct link to the frigid temperatures and my critical and complaining spirit. However, looking at the rest of life, I have not been able to confirm that linkage. In the spring it is warmer and yet I complain about the showery days. I don’t really care that spring showers bring about May flowers. The flowers generate complaints about pollen! Summer elicits grumbling about heat and humidity. I get whiney about sweaty underarms, wrinkled cloths, and being barbequed by the sun’s rays. In fall it is neither depressingly cold nor uncomfortably hot. Nonetheless I tend to murmur about piles of leaves to rake and my frost damaged petunias. I suppose I cannot justly connect the weather to my complaining spirit. I am a multi-seasonal complainer – I can find something to complain about in any season!

            Complaining is not seasonally induced. Many people seem to be inflicted with the complaint gene regardless of the season. The Apostle Paul had learned to, “Be content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:11). I must have failed that course and been enrolled in the remedial course of “Contentment 101.” The antidote to complaining relates to our perspective of life. The great 21^st century “philosopher” Ziggy puts it this way, “You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses."

            In the Old Testament we meet the children of Israel in the wilderness in Numbers 11. God has delivered them from bondage, promised to lead them through the wilderness, provided them water to drink and food to eat, and had issued a promise to give them a land “flowing with milk and honey.” What was their response? The people complained (11:1). They didn’t like the menu saying, “But nothing tastes good out here; all we get is manna, manna, manna” (11:6 The Message). They were hungry for meat and some of the garnishes they supposedly enjoyed in Egypt – “the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic” (11:5). This is not the first complaint and it wasn’t their last. They were multi-faceted complainers grumbling about lacking water, leaving Egypt, following Moses’ leadership, and other concerns. It struck me that the Lord heard their complaining (11:18). He also concluded that such action revealed, “You despised the Lord who is among you” (11:20).

            There is a principle that seems to materialize in the Lord’s response. Our comments about life often reflect how we view the one who is involved in contributing to our life. As one person put it, “To reject the provision is to reject the provider.” I recall one occasion in my childhood. Dad had been in the hospital for several months. With the loss of Dad’s wages, funds were very slim and Mom struggled to provide food for us. On one occasion I was called to dinner and we were again having watery Irish stew. Upon seeing my plate, I issued a whiney comment, “Not again!” Tears filled Mom’s eyes and all she said was, “I’m doing the best with what I have.” She heard the ingratitude in my words and interpreted them to mean that I thought she didn’t care. In reality I cared too much about me and cared too little about Mom and what she had provided.

            On a grander scale, think about how God, who provides all our needs, might feel about our complaining and ingratitude. James concludes, “But every good endowment that we possess and every complete gift that we have received must come from above, from the Father of all lights, with whom there is never the slightest variation or shadow of inconsistency” (1:17 J. B. Phillips). God has our best interests at heart, even when those interests clash with our cravings.  I am reminded that the Lord has a better understanding of our needs and how to supply them, “For the ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord, and He ponders all his paths” (Proverbs 5:21). The prophet Isaiah added, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (55:8-9). Often I have grumbled because I lacked something for which I have lusted. Only later did I discover I was better off without that which had preoccupied my desires.

            Octorara Orphie says that we are to have several more weeks of winter. I don’t know what response this groundhog’s prognostication generates in your life. Instead of a collective sigh of disgust perhaps we can look at the weather and the concluding days of winter with an alternative view, “This is the day that the Lord has made; we will be glad and rejoice in it” (Psalm 118:24). Gratitude can really adjust and even alter our attitude!                

Real Declarations?

It is that time of the year again where I enjoy standing in the grocery store aisle where people are buying Valentine’s cards. It is especially fun when the February 14 deadline is at hand. You get to watch people with a “no nonsense” expression on their face walk briskly toward the card rack hoping to find a card that still has a matching envelope. To some extent the electronic era is putting a crimp on my fun. Some have begun expressing their undying love, sacrifice, and fidelity by turning to a web site offering free e-cards that they were linked to in their Google search on “Valentine’s Day cards.” Somehow intimate expressions seem better expressed in a tangible way on an overpriced piece of paper picturing a couple about 10 years younger and 20 pounds lighter than the sender and their intended. Of course the card must be slathered with drippy words written by someone else to express their most personal sentiments of love and affection.

Standing at a distance, so as not to be elbowed by a frantic consumer, I observe various approaches to people’s selection. The “swoopers” slow but never really stop at the card rack. Within seconds they have verified the appropriate gender, relationship, match of card to envelope, and continue on to the candy isle without breaking pace. “Flippers” on the other hand stand before the display and flip the cards over to check the price of the card before reading the contents that express their priceless love. If a card is not within their range of fiscal limitations, it is returned to the rack without a further glance. Then there are the “grazers.” They read every card on the rack until they narrow their choice to the top three. Then they proceed with great indecisiveness to alternately put the cards back on the rack, only to pick them up again. Occasionally, I have felt so sorry for these individuals that I have wanted to offer to get them a folding chair and a literary adviser to help them with their decision. There is the rare purchaser for whom I really have no label. He nonchalantly picks out three different cards (and not for Mom, auntie, teacher, and friend!) and heads to the checkout. I figure he will have some other issues to deal with in the near future that are more problematic than the cost of a card and the sentiment expressed! If one of the recipients of those cards discovers she was not the sole benefactor of this affectionate expression from her “sweetheart,” the next card the sender will likely deal with will say, “Get Well!”

I suppose the real issue at Valentine’s Day is not the means of the expression, or its monetary value, or even the method by which a person went about choosing their expression of love and affection. The real issue is, “Was the declaration real?” Words can be so empty when they are devoid of reality. How many cards shared on Valentine’s Day will contain hallow words because what they express is not how things are? When words are linked with genuine affections that are verified by credible actions; then the words may be judged as a real declaration. Too often words are simply a sudden burst of emotional exuberance and not an expression of intentional investment and commitment. What people want on Valentine’s Day are real declarations of affection and love. Meaningless sentiments made to fulfill an obligation associated with a particular day historically connected to romance is not enough. Reality always trumps mere compliance.

Could this be the way God looks at people’s declarations of love? Might He ask of those declarations, “Are they real?” People are pretty casual at times when they declare their love for God. They may go to a worship service and casually declare their love for God as they sing. However, did they sing simply because those around them were, and not because it expressed their reality? Possibly even moments later they had little recall of what they sang.  Or perhaps someone puts them on the spot and asks them, “Do you love God?” The immediate response, almost indignant that such a question would need to be asked of them, “But of course!” Is that a real declaration or one that was appropriate at the time to save face?

Jesus knew that people’s declarations might not be genuine so he provided a simple means of verification. He said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). John, a disciple who heard Jesus say this latter wrote, “Let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:18). He said this because he had seen Jesus express love by more than his words. John earlier wrote, “By this we know love, because He (Jesus) laid down His life for us” (3:16). Jesus’ declaration was real. His words were linked with genuine affections and verified by credible actions. This Valentine’s Day may our declarations be real too. Not only to people but also to God. Our world is in desperate need of such declarations.      

A Response to a Secret Mission

Ten years ago, Thanksgiving Day, November 28, 2003, President George W. Bush made a surprise visit to American troops on the battlefront in Baghdad, Iraq. Flying secretly to violence-scarred Iraq at great personal inconvenience and extreme risk, he went to be with the troops and to thank the U.S. forces for serving there. It was the first trip ever made by an American president to Iraq—a mission tense with concern about his safety.
            According to the Washington Post report, the president's plane – its lights darkened and windows closed to minimize chances of making it a target – landed under a crescent moon at Baghdad International Airport. He flew in on the plane he most often uses, and White House officials went to extraordinary lengths to keep the trip a secret, fearing its disclosure would prompt terrorist attempts to kill him. Even the president’s parents who traveled to Crawford, Texas, to spend the holiday with their son, were stunned when they learned of the trip upon arrival at the ranch.
            Some 600 soldiers, who were from the 1st Armored Division and the 82nd Airborne Division, had gathered at an airport mess hall for a Thanksgiving dinner. With the president out of sight, L. Paul Bremer, the chief U.S. civilian administrator, told the soldiers it was time to read the president's Thanksgiving proclamation, a task reserved for the most senior official present.
            "Is there anybody back there more senior than us?" he asked. That was the cue for President Bush, the Commander and Chief of the U.S. Armed Forces, to promptly step from behind the curtain. The shocked troops responded immediately with thunderous applause and cheers. The reception was overwhelming and displayed the support of the troops for President Bush and their gratitude to him for coming so many miles to be with them, even for a short time – just 2 ½ hours on the ground.
            The Washington Post said the president joked, "I was just looking for a warm meal somewhere. Thanks for inviting me. I can't think of finer folks to have Thanksgiving dinner with than you all."

            What would you have thought of the soldiers if they had responded with boos, cat-calls, and comments like, “We came for turkey not talking! We are not interested in political speeches! Who cares about George Bush?” You would rightfully conclude, “How ungrateful! How rude! What an inappropriate response!” Or what would you have thought had they not responded at all and essentially ignored him intent on getting on with life and dealing with the harsh realities of their existence. You might add, “How self-centered! How indifferent! What are they thinking?”

            Yet twenty-one centuries ago, a far greater secret mission of sorts was undertaken.  It was undertaken by the most senior official of the universe—the Commander and Chief of the Universe, the very Son of God—Jesus Christ.  He came to be with us. In fact, one of his names—Immanuel—means “God with us” (Matthew 1:23).  Yet when he came, his reception by the greatest majority of people was one of ingratitude, indifference, and incredible hostility. The Apostle John put it this way, “He was in the world, and though the world was made through Him, the world did not know Him. He came unto His own, and His own did not receive Him” (John 1:10-11). What ingratitude! What rudeness!

            But there were some who received the King of kings with joy, like the soldiers received President Bush. John continues, “But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become the children of God, to those who believe in His name” (John 1:12).

            How have you responded to the coming of the Commander and Chief of the Universe—Jesus Christ?  He has come to you!  He did not come with all of the perks of the President. There was no Air Force One, a special security detail, a secure military base on which to land, and the applause of his troops. Jesus came to earth as a baby. His first accommodation was an animal’s manger. He was cared for by a humble couple, who eight days later, could only afford to purchase for the purification sacrifice two turtle-doves (Luke 2:24) – indicating their poverty. They sought to destroy him (Matthew 2:13-14).

            Jesus did not come on his secret mission to cheer up the troops. He came because His Father, ‘so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). President Bush’s secret mission brought temporary encouragement. Jesus’ secret mission brought the prospect of eternal hope. This season, give thanks for Jesus’ secret mission. It demands our appropriate response.

Remembering Mom at Thanksgiving

Two weeks before Thanksgiving 1969, my mother suddenly died due a massive stoke and subsequent heart attack. My Dad and I were in shocked disbelief. No warning prepared us for her death. Indeed, no warning would have done so. The days following the funeral found us going through our days like emotional zombies. Life was confusing. Emotionally we felt as cold and gloomy as the cold steel gray skies of November. Mom was without a doubt the keeper and the catalyst of joy in our home. Her absence left a void in our lives that transformed the home where we lived into just a house to which we came in the evening to pass away the night. With each new day there was an anticipation that things had to get better. There was even a vague hope this would be the day we were going to awaken from a bad dream. The new day, however, brought us more of the same. I moved home from college and became a commuter while trying to help my Dad with the household responsibilities. I was an inadequate replacement for my Mom’s knowledge and abilities. Yet my meager knowledge of the household operations was more than my Dad had. His world and his life revolved around his occupation. Now he was cast adrift in a world he did not know and frankly had little emotional energy to try and understand.

I was in my senior year of college and looking forward to marriage in the coming June. It should have been a time of excited plans and emotional joy. Now I anticipated a wedding my mother would never see. I focused upon meaningless issues like who would stand beside my Dad for wedding pictures? Who would host the bridal shower for my side of the family? Meaningless questions swirled in a confused mind where expectations were colliding with reality. Mom was not here and even things at a wedding months away would be different. How egocentric grief can become.          

As the Thanksgiving holiday loomed, Dad declared he didn’t feel like celebrating with a bunch of people. Now I was torn between caring for my Dad and spending time with my fiancée’s family as planned and promised. The weekend before the holiday my Dad was coerced into spend Thanksgiving Day with his sister. He grudgingly agreed and I guiltily made the trip from suburban Philadelphia to be with my fiancée’s family. A freak snow storm extended my stay in Lancaster for a day only heaping an extra measure of emotional guilt upon my shoulders. Any other time an extra day with the one I loved would have been a wonderful windfall.

The next gauntlet to face was Christmas. The foreboding thoughts began as soon as the last leftover turkey was tucked away in the Tupperware containers. The day after Thanksgiving meant a 1 ½ hour ride home and more time to think. I did not much feel like listening to songs about Frosty the Snowman or phrases about “peace on earth.” For Dad and me this was not a season of peace, it was a season of anxiety attached to an unknown future. Then I passed some familiar sites. The stand where Mom carefully selected our Christmas tree. A shopping center were Mom spent endless hours scouting out just the right gifts for family and friends. Our church where we celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ who came to make it possible to have eternal life and have a home in heaven. The thought, “Have a home in heaven,” echoed again in my mind. Then it came to me. While dad and I were consumed with our grief, Mom was joyously enjoying her home in heaven. Could I somehow enter into her joy?

That thought began to adjust some of my thinking as I went through the grieving process. I still missed Mom deeply. However, I began to challenge my grief with the hope that Christ made possible at Christmas. He came so that we could “have life, and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). Jesus said previously in the verse that the thief, probably alluding to the Devil, “comes only to steal and kill.” The one who died for me, Jesus Christ, wants me to enjoy an abundant life and fullness of joy (John 15:11). Why then should I allow myself to “sorrow as others who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Such thinking only allows the “thief to come in and steal” what Christ came to offer to people as the angels announced, “Peace on earth, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14).        

On December 1, 1969, I set up a Christmas tree. It was probably the ugliest Christmas tree that was ever in our house. Picking trees was Mom’s expertise! The tree reminded me not only of Mom’s joy at Christmas, but also the joy she was enjoying in heaven right then. Suffering can easily steal our joy on earth, unless we focus upon the gift of eternal life that can never be taken away (Romans 6:23). Christ offers that to us and those who also have accepted Him by faith. That first Thanksgiving and Christmas were tough without Mom. My sorrow was tempered, however, by hope.           

Decades later at Thanksgiving, I still miss Mom. My thinking however has been transformed by hope. I thank God for every remembrance of her, and rejoice that she has all these years been enjoying her home in heaven and will for all eternity. Now at Thanksgiving I remember Mom with gratitude as God’s gift to our family and her friends and I give thanks. Then in amazement I recall, she is but one of the manifold blessings from God. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.