Complaining

Complaining A Chronic Grumbler
A lady who was an incurable grumbler complained about everything and everybody. But, finally, the minister thought he had found something about which she could make no complaint: the old lady's crop of potatoes was certainly the finest for miles around. "Ah, for once you must be pleased," he said with a beaming smile as he met her in the village street. "Everyone is saying how splendid your potatoes are this year." The old lady glared at him as she answered, "They are not so bad, but where are the rotten ones for the pigs?"

Honker or Helper
The story was once told of a woman driver whose car stalled in traffic and she was unable to get it restarted. The fellow who was behind her, and thus unable to move, thought it necessary to constantly show his impatience by honking his horn every few seconds. Finally, the woman walked back to his car and said, "If you will go try to start my car, I'll stay here and honk your horn for you."
So many times in the church this is the case. The one who is not doing anything to help is also the one who makes the most noise complaining that nothing is happening. When You Carry Your Cross, You Will Have No Room for a Chip
Lord,
You said if I want to follow you, I will need to carry my cross every day. I want to follow, Lord.
But there are days when I'm dragging my cross, making a trail for everyone to see. There are days when I'm pushing my cross, making my own path miserable and dusty. There are days when I'm sitting on my cross, trying to get comfortable and going nowhere. There are days when I'm giving my cross to somebody else, who already has one of his own.
Help me, Lord, to carry my cross on my shoulder. When it's up there, it leaves no room for a chip!

Why Me, Lord?
My car broke down and it cost $400 to get it fixed...$400 that I did not have. Why me, Lord? After all, I've been as good as most people. In fact, I've been better than most. Why are you treating me this way? Why are you punishing me this way? Then the TV went on the blink, and so did the dishwasher, and the clothes dryer, and the lawn mower, and even the iron! Why me, Lord? Besides that, why, at my age, should I still be having financial problems? Why am I not "set" financially like some others I know? Why have you denied me opportunities for fame and fortune that you have given to others? Why me, Lord?
When I find myself starting to think like this, it sometimes helps for me to ask the same questions about other aspects of my life. Lord, what have I done that's so grand that you should have blessed me with a car, a TV set, a clothes dryer, a lawn mower, and an iron? Why did you give me all these things anyway? Why me, Lord?
Lord, why did you permit me to be born in America with all its plenty? I could have been born in poverty-stricken Bangladesh instead of in rich America. Why me, Lord? Lord, why did you give me the opportunity to have a job when so many, who are as deserving as I, are without work? Why me, Lord?
Lord, why did you give me good health? Others died at my age of heart attacks or are crippled by accidents or disease. Why should I escape ill health when other religious people do not? Why me, Lord? Lord, why have you spared me from the sorrows that strike so many other families? Others, wonderful people, have lost close relatives, but I haven't. Why me, Lord?
When I think of all the ways the Lord has blessed me, though I don't deserve it, I wonder how I could possibly complain about the relatively insignificant things that go wrong in my life from time to time. If I could only learn to count my blessings! The Sympathetic Savior
Some years ago a man living in Wales had the misfortune of being involved in a mining accident which necessitated the amputation of his right leg. After a period in the hospital, he went to a prosthesis maker to be supplied with an artificial leg. When the appendage had been strapped to the stump, which was all that remained of the injured leg, the attendant requested that the patient get up and walk across the floor. Awkwardly, the man struggled to his feet and staggered across the room. Then, dragging himself painfully back to his chair, he slumped into it, utterly exhausted and discouraged.
"That's not how to do it," said the attendant. "Watch this!" Then he walked gracefully across the floor. "Ah," exclaimed the patient, "It's all very easy for you because you don't have any disability."
"Oh, haven't I?" replied the attendant. "Look." Pulling up the legs of his trousers, he disclosed that he was not wearing just one artificial limb, but TWO!
Too many times we doubt or we get depressed and discouraged and we are inclined to say, "Jesus, it was easy for you. You were God and could not sin. You never tasted the abundance of daily temptation, toil, and frustration. Yet the writer in Hebrews 4:15 tells us "...we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are-yet was without sin."
So the next time you find yourself doubting you can finish the race, look to Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith. The next time you're depressed about giving up things for God, look to Jesus who gave up even more. Or the next time you're discouraged, remember the ultimate sacrifice-Jesus bearing the sins of the world on the cross as God turned His back, to say "I LOVE YOU" to us. Which Did God Believe?
A large family sat around the table for breakfast one morning. As the custom was, the father returned thanks, blessing God for the food. Immediately afterward, however, as was his bad habit, he began to grumble about hard times, the poor quality of the food he was forced to eat, the way it was cooked, and much more. His little daughter interrupted him saying, "Father, do you suppose God heard what you said a little while ago?" "Certainly," replied the father with the confident air of an instructor. "And did He hear what you said about the bacon and the coffee?" "Of course," the father replied, but not as confidently as before. Then his little girl asked him again, "Then, Father, which did God believe?"

He Grows Men, Not Peaches
A young man who was trying to establish himself as a peach grower had worked hard and invested all his money in a peach orchard. It blossomed wonderfully but then came a killing frost. He didn't go to church the next Sunday, nor the next, nor the next. His minister went to see him to discover the reason. The young fellow exclaimed, "I'm not coming any more. Do you think I can worship a God who cares for me so little that He would let a frost kill all my peaches?" The old minister looked at him a few moments in silence, then said kindly, "God loves you better than He does your peaches. He knows that while peaches do better without frosts, it is impossible to grow the best men without frosts. His object is to grow men, not peaches." We are sometimes so concerned about our material possessions that we fail to realize that setting our hearts upon them can stunt our spiritual development. God often has to open our eyes to life's real values by taking from us its lesser ones.

Stop Complaining
Robert Hall, the great Baptist preacher, used to be subject to occasions of great physical pain, in the course of which he would roll on the ground in sheer agony. When the pain was over, the first words he used to say were, "I hope I didn't complain." How much more effective our witness for Christ would be if we didn't complain so much about our trials of faith.

Submit, Do Not Grumble
Unfortunately, even among Christians there are those who are chronic grumblers. A woman of this type grumbled at everything and everybody. But at last the preacher thought he had found something about which she could make no complaint-the lady's crop of potatoes was certainly the finest for miles around. "Ah, for once you must be pleased," he said with a beaming smile as he met her in the village street. "Everyone is saying how splendid your potatoes are this year." The lady glared at him as she answered, "They're not so poor. But where's the bad ones for the pigs?" If the mouth is given to grumbling, then the heart is lacking in submissiveness to God. The Chronic Complainer
A certain father was a chronic growler. He was sitting with his family in the presence of a guest in the parlor one day when the question of food came up. One of the children, a little girl, was telling the guest very cleverly what food each member of the family liked best. Finally it came to the father's turn to be described. "And what do I like, Nancy?" he asked laughingly. "You," said the little girl slowly, "well, you like most anything we haven't got."