Without Grumbling

Is there anything worse than having to get out of bed and go back downstairs for something after you’re settled in for the night?

Probably. But in the moment, I couldn’t name one thing. I forgot the monitor, so we can hear Jo wake up. Emily wanted me to bring up a cup of water for her. The cat starts wailing, because—I don’t know, a door is shut (that he doesn’t want to walk through, but he doesn’t want it closed, either)—and it’s time for him to go stay in the guest room. I didn’t make sure the house was locked before I came up. Whatever the reason, it is invalid and intolerable, because I’m already in bed. It is the worst thing imaginable. And I’m going to tell the world about it.

A lot of y’all may not have witnessed this, but in the right setting, I am an expert complainer. I don’t appreciate things upsetting my plans, stealing my precious free time, or requiring me to move when I’m not planning to move, and I know how to express it. After all, most of my job is finding words. I have some experience expressing myself.

I also have some experience with the Bible, and, while I was reflecting recently on the latest grounds for griping, I remembered something in said Bible about all of this. It’s from Philippians 2:

Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky… (2:14-15)

“Do everything without grumbling or arguing.” That line itself is liable to set a grumbler grumbling. At best, by the grace of God, you’ll roll your eyes and say, “Fine!”

But as much as I need to hear those words sometimes, it’s the lines after them that really got me thinking: Do everything without complaining or bickering, so that you may become children of God without fault in a warped, crooked generation. Then, Paul adds, you’ll shine like stars before the watching world.  

In this passage, Paul points to our contentment and our ability to be interrupted and inconvenienced without grumbling as what sets Christians apart from the world around us. If you want to be different, a child of God in a warped generation, you can start by putting a lid on those gripes. But if you complain every time you have to get out of bed and go downstairs, congratulations: you’re acting just like any self-avowed heathen might. You’re not shining with any light from Christ in the world. It’s when you bite your tongue, when you stop demanding your own ease and fishing for sympathy, that you shine.

(Paul also points to arguing as a mark that distinguishes someone as a child of God. I don’t have time to get into that now, but how’s that going for you? How’s that going for any of us?)

The next time your schedule, your expectations, or your comfort get disrupted, and you suck in some air for carrying your gripes out into the world, I hope you remember: you have two options in that moment. You can tell the people around you things they don’t want to hear anyways, or you can shine a light into the dark of discontent and anger that we live in every day.

I hope you—I hope I—will choose the light.

Listen to this devotional right here: