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A No Whining Life

A No Whining Life

Because May 1 falls on Top Ten Tuesday, please enjoy the upcoming month’s devotion from our church newsletter a day early. It’ll give you a little more time to deliver May baskets tomorrow!

…His divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness,
through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence.
2 Peter 1:3

A couple weeks ago, the Southwest Airlines flight goddess (that’s what she called herself) jazzed up the safety instruction shpiel by announcing our trip would be both non-smoking and no whining. I admired her bravery since we passengers had done a considerable amount of whining – about missed connections, lousy airport food, and changed plans – during the six hour flight delay before take off. But in the end, we arrived at our destinations…with $200 complimentary ticket vouchers in our pockets.

To be honest, the no whining announcement made by the flight goddess put my nose a bit out of joint. Because it reminded me of what God has been showing me recently. I whine a lot.

Each time God points out this tendency, I come up with reasons excuses to justify it. “Writing books for parents of kids with special needs doesn’t generate much money. I’ve been an obedient, trustful servant – blogging for special needs families for free for years, giving away books and advice often, donating my time to write the kids’ Sunday school skits, writing this column. Some day, God, the cost of my obedience could end my ministry if the funds run out. So my whining is justified,” I inform Him.

“No,” God says. “The Christian life is a no whining life.”

“But I deserve a reward for being an obedient, trustful servant,” I argue. “After all, kids get cookies when they obey. As an adult, I deserve a successful ministry for being obedient. Immediately. Without delay.”

“In that case, you’ll be happy to know,” God tells me through 2 Peter 1:3, “you already have your reward.”

“Really?” I read further. “Hmm. It’s not a cookie or a successful ministry, is it?”

“No. It’s better,” God answers in 2 Peter 1. “Your reward is knowing me and freely partaking in my divine nature. Now and forever. Amen.”

“I’m guessing your divine nature doesn’t include whining?” I ask.

“Do you see it on the list in verses 5-7?”

“Um, no. So whining’s out?”

“Whining’s out. But courage, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love are in. And they’re in you because my Son, your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ abundantly supplies everything you need.”

“So I don’t need to whine?”

“You don’t need to whine because you know me, and I am in you. I promise you will get to your final destination safe and sound. With eternity in your pocket.”

I smile and breathe deeply. No need for a sky goddess with a jazzed up shpiel to make me feel safe. God’s got me, and my eternity wrapped up in his promises. Who needs to whine when she’s got assurance like that?

 

I’m No Complainer

I’m No Complainer

I’m not a complainer. Maybe that’s not quite true. But I don’t complain all the time, just most of the time. Look at it this way. On a really good day, there are whole minutes when I don’t complain at all. Pretty impressive record, if I do say so myself.

This morning as I worked on a devotion for my book for parents of sick and dying kids,  God kept me from complaining about my husband. Not that I complain about him all the time, and the devotion I wrote this morning should boost my record.

This devotion was for separated and divorced parents who need to lay aside their differences and communicate with each other for the sake of their sick child. Thankfully, a divorced mom was completely honest about the struggles she and her former husband had when their son battled leukemia. Because of her, I was able to share a story and give some advice to help other parents in a similar situation.

Hearing her family’s story and writing about it made me thankful for my husband. He endured with great patience my emotional, hormonal rants after Allen was born and flown away for surgery. Sometimes as I look back, I’m amazed our marriage held together. But it did, mostly because of his love and patience and forgiveness.

That realization put the kibosh on my complaining, least for today. But I’ll need another reminder tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that. Good thing Hiram’s still a loving, patient and forgiving man. Because of him our marriage will last.