Tip of My Iceberg

How many ways can someone whine about something over which they have no control?

I haven’t hit it yet. The number of ways must be astronomical.

I have whiney on the brain. So when I recently passed a store with a sign that spoke to my crabby heart, I had to laugh. It was me.

Only they spelled it wrong.

Why have my whines been so prolific of late, you ask?

The weather. The dad gum weather.

I’ve become a thoroughly acclimated Florida gal. Sun. Warmth. Humidity. I can take it. After living a chunk of life here, it’s part of me.

I flew up to the northern climes to visit my mom and sisters. Leaving 90 degree weather behind. Entering dismal cold. Damp cold that cuts through to your bones and freezes you clear through. Like a human popsicle. Without flavor.

And it snowed.

There weren’t enough clothes in the world to keep me warm. My sister has a fireplace in her home, and that’s where I parked my bottom for as long as they’d leave me there.

Wearing three sweatshirts.

“Wear layers,” they said.

“I can’t fit any more on. I can’t bend my arms or legs as it is,” I replied.

I’d gone from the 90’s to the 30’s. And I whined the whole time.

Lest you think I’m all one-sided, I will own that I’m an equal opportunity whiner. After flying back to Orlando, we sat on the tarmac for an hour and a half. Because of torrential rain and lightning.

I had a few choice whiney thoughts flitting through my brain. None stayed too long because there were too many choice thoughts fighting for mind space.

The day after returning, we went to soccer games–which never gets old.

Unless it’s in the 90’s and the humidity is right up there as well.

I’m becoming a master of choice thoughts. The whiney wench went on a whine rampage.

It’s funny that I complain about something I can’t change. What good does it do? Remind me of my frustration? It doesn’t move me forward. It just wears a nice little rut in my mind that I keep going back to. The rut I get stuck in when I see that the grass always seems greener on the other side of the fence.

Truth is, I don’t want to climb that fence. I want to learn contentment where I am. With what I have.

Paul, a man who knew Jesus well, put it this way.

“I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little…Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in Jesus, who makes me who I am.”   Philippians 4:12-13

Complaining comes naturally–it’s my response to not being in control. For those who believe they can control how their lives will progress–spoiler alert. Control is a myth.

Contentment is a choice. Not what I have or don’t have. It’s Who I have in my life. And Who has me. Discomfort gets minimized if I know I’m valued and well loved by One who will never leave me.

I might even learn to stop whining over temperature extremes.

Or not.