“The barista put milk in my espresso macchiato, making it very heavy and nearly undrinkable.”
“I’m in my bed, but the charging cable is too short for me to comfortably use my phone in my bed whilst it’s charging. WHY IS MY LIFE SO HARD?!”
“My temperature-controlled wine room is full, and I worry that some of the wine will go bad before I can drink it.”
“New Jacuzzi lights are so dark I can’t see the time on my Rolex.”
My, oh, my, isn’t it shameful what those of us in First-World nations can find to complain about?
The above statements were gleaned from a website called first-world-problems.com—a forum where people can share “problems” that would cause others in less affluent cultures to roll their eyes in exasperation and disbelief.
But if I’m going to point an accusing finger at the First-World whiners quoted above, I first need to confess my own propensity to grumble about trivial things.
I, too, sometimes turn luxuries into reasons to complain…all while millions of people on this planet are struggling to simply stay alive for one more day.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I watch news footage of people who’ve left everything behind to flee from murderous jihadists in the Middle East and Africa. Thousands are literally running for their lives simply because they believe what I believe.
Their Christian faith isn’t a nice diversion or a box to check on a form—it’s an all-in commitment that invites persecution, hardship and, quite possibly, physical torture or death.
And here I am grumbling because our cable TV company is due any day now to replace the digital video recorder hooked to our TV, which means all the programs I’ve recorded will be lost. First. World. Problem.
Obviously, I haven’t yet successfully eliminated shameful, frivolous stress and complaining from my life, but at least I do now understand how shallow and ungrateful it is, and I’m quick to recognize it when I see it in myself or others.
And when I see it, something deep in my spirit groans.
This past year, for example, my high school classmates were planning a 40th reunion. As events were announced on a reunion Facebook page, complaining and drama commenced.
A bowling alley where a pre-reunion gathering was scheduled was deemed “the worst in town.” A huge BBQ planned at a classmate’s home was “too redneck…too hot…too out in the boondocks.”
Some of it got pretty ugly, and all I could think was, “What would the people running for their lives in Syria, Iraq and Nigeria think about all this fussing over bowling alleys and barbecue?”
How desperately we need to step back, see the big picture and nip our First-World complaints in the bud, before they ever make it to our lips or onto Facebook.
I do believe we’re born with an internal sense of the way things ought to be, because we’re made in the image of our perfect God. But it’s there to cause us to set our hearts upon our Creator and long for heaven, not to poison our souls with ingratitude and discontentment during our short stay on earth.
Life can get hard, but there are always many, many things for which we can give thanks.
Can you see? Hear? Walk? Breathe? Is your stomach full? Do you have a roof over your head? People in your life to love?
Intentionally dwelling upon our blessings, and thanking the God who gives them, is the best defense against everything that threatens to steal our peace and joy.
Even when our wine room is too full and the Jacuzzi lights are too dim. (Ugh.)