08: From Grumbling to Gratitude
A shot of me post-Fireball shot, (a hallowed Thanksgiving family tradition amongst some of the men in our family) trying to look cool, like I didn’t just choke on my whiskey.
Logan here.
Thanksgiving is here! I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty psyched to go hard on some sides. Don’t get me wrong, I eat turkey, and my family can smoke a mean turkey, but for me, the side dishes are the real playmakers: my mom’s broccoli and cheese casserole, stuffing, corn casserole — it’s all manna from heaven. Did somebody say “manna?” That’s what I want to talk about today! This week at church, my pastor (shoutout the great Charlie Turner), walked us through a portion of the book of Exodus, where Moses and the Israelites are journeying through the wilderness after God has just delivered them from oppression in Egypt. Hungry and tired, the people repeatedly do one thing — complain.
In chapter 16, we find them “grumbl[ing] against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness,” even going so far as to wish they had died back in Egypt, where they at least had bread, specifically manna (v. 2-3). In response, God works yet another wonder by bringing down manna and quail like rain from the sky, six days straight, and a day for resting at the end of the week. For me, it’s easy to look at the Israelites’ complaining as something I’d never do. If I was in their sandals, I wouldn’t complain. I mean, God literally just split a sea in two so they could escape the regime responsible for their slavery. Then, He gives them sustenance and a mandate to rest. How could they believe the same God had left them behind?
However, the unfortunate truth is that, I too often forget all that God has and is bringing me through and resort to grumbling. For example, waking up on a Monday morning leads me to dread the full work week ahead, rather than being thankful that I got to see another day, that I have a job in the first place, that comes with the joy of working alongside Gia and so many amazing people who value me well. On a more macro scale, it’s easy to grumble about my disability and the challenges it brings, like when I’m in my manual chair and am fully dependent on someone pushing me from point A to point B, not being able to bend over to pick things up, or the discomfort that can come when someone is transferring me in and out of bed or their car. Then God reminds me that other folks don’t have friends and family who are quite as willing and able to help me not just exist, but thrive. Thus, am called to reflect not only of the beauty of dependence, but also the beauty of people I can depend on: kind, servant-hearted, committed, even when it’s uncomfortable.
You, dear reader, are likely not disabled, but maybe you and I can find commonality in a propensity to worry. I deal with intrusive, impure thoughts, dread a future without the people closest to me, wonder if I’ll ever have a successful career as an author, be able to someday be a husband, father, or uncle. I can go to a lot of troublesome places. As a result, I find myself grumbling about the unsettled thoughts and stresses, crying out to God and getting frustrated with myself. My mind just has to fixate on something, like if I’m not worrying, then I must not care enough about myself or my people. I feel like I’m being complacent, just stuffing (Thanksgiving pun kinda intended) things down. What I need to work on is taking Paul’s words seriously:
Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses every thought, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7).
Whether you’re grumbling on this Thanksgiving Day or have been a grumbler, I’m not here to shame you. We’re all guilty. The baffling truth is, God doesn’t want us to worry. He is more than capable of taking on our grumbling, our anger, messy thoughts, fears and relationships, and delivering us from them. If you don’t know Jesus and the peace of God that surpasses understanding, I hope you seek it out by talking to Him. If you seek Him, He’s faithful to meet you and deliver you. In his sermon, my pastor reminded us that “gratitude comes when we’ve experienced generosity,” and that “remembering past deliverances fuels thanksgiving while forgetting them breeds discontent.” To the fellow Christian, let’s be a light today by practicing gratitude. In his grace and generosity, Jesus, our very own manna from heaven (see John 6:30-35), has delivered you first and foremost from the penalty of sin and death and has brought you into a new day. How might he be calling you to share that generosity where you live, work and play?
Dear reader, I’m grateful you’ve taken the time to read my words. Wherever you find yourself today, I hope you’re with people who are grateful for you. Happy Thanksgiving!