Philippians 2:14-16: Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, holding fast the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I will have reason to glory because I did not run in vain nor toil in vain.
Moving from the MidWest to the DC Metro Area has been a massive learning experience. One thing I have learned is that Washington, D.C., really does have an attitude of, “I am the center of the universe and everything works through Me.” Considering the nature of government, and everything that goes on here, this attitude is definitely not unfounded—though that doesn’t mean it’s right. Even someone like myself, who neither works nor lives within The District (and indeed has a suspicion of government that runs deep, long, and wide), can get a little bit caught up in this sentiment.
But you know what? It’s not just me, and it’s not just here. It is, in fact, one of the less beautiful things about being human. To each of us, our problems, our feelings, our ideas and opinions, are the most important in the world. In a small way, that’s necessary to maintain a sense of self-preservation, without which the human race would die out. But we always take that too far, turning it into a terrible attitude of arrogance, self-importance, and disinterest in our fellow human beings.
I started thinking about this in depth yesterday, when I had to summarize an article about children in Guinea who are dying of preventable diseases such as smallpox, measles, and mumps. Their health needs are going unheeded because of sectarian violence that has gripped the nation and distracted the government, the economy, and the people, while international sanctions are preventing any kind of aid from reaching them. The article is here if you’re interested, but be warned that there are some pictures that may be disturbing.
Anyway, I shared this article with Bethany, who pointed out that this made her feel kind of ashamed of the things she complains about. This got me thinking: If I kept track of everything I complained about in a single day, I think I would be overwhelmed, embarrassed, and probably a little indignant, too.
Right now, the U.S. Mid-Atlantic region is still reeling from 8 days of heavy snows and wind. I’ve gone to the office only 4 of the past 9 workdays. Two weekends’ worth of plans have been disrupted, and I’ve been crabby with my roommate and bored with the food supplies I had stocked up in anticipation of these storms. We’ve had electricity and Internet go out a couple times. There’s been a lot for us to complain about.
BUT: I do not wake up in fear for my life, and I do not worry that I’m going to get shot as I go about the course of my day. I’m concerned about germs and proper food storage, but in my daily activities I’m not actually worried that I will catch a life-threatening disease. I’m not worried where my next meal is coming from, or that it is not coming at all. I’m not worried that my entire family could be killed simply because my religion is different from my neighbor’s.
But guess what I have? A roof over my head. A refrigerator full of food. Bottles full of basic medicines and vitamins. Bottles of vitamin water. Soap, makeup, perfume, and shampoo. A car with a full tank of gas and a snow shovel to dislodge it from its parking space. Hot water. Piles of blankets. Piles of clothes. Clean air and sunshine. A cell phone to keep in touch with people. Grocery stores within walking distance. The power has not been out for more than a few hours at a time. I can work from home and not use up vacation days or risk my safety.
And what have I been complaining about lately? How much I hate Valentine’s Day. How disappointed I am at not seeing the friends I want to see when I wanted to see them. I’m stuck inside, in the warmth. I have to shovel snow off my car. I’m not getting the right attention from the right guys. The sidewalks aren’t shoveled. My bedroom window is drafty. I don’t have any chocolate in my apartment. My church service was canceled last week. My boss actually expects me to work and do my job. I’m tired. I’m bored. My mom is too busy to call me back. The Subway where I’m writing this post is playing country music.
Maybe, just maybe, that whenever I complain about truly vain and trivial things, I will think of the children in Guinea, and I’ll pray for their physical health and spiritual salvation, and maybe I’ll have an attitude with a little more gratitude and humility. And remember Philippians 2:14-16.
Notes From the Sisterhood of Perpetual Singleness 