When I retired from pastoring, they asked me, “What are you not going to miss?”

Not a hard question at all. It actually came to me pretty easily, “I am not going to miss being the chair of the complaint department.”

I don’t like complaining. It wears me out. I was absolutely not going to miss people taking time out of their busy day to call or come by the office to tell me what they didn’t like about the church. So, I was a little surprised to notice the “C” word in the psalm that called me to prayer this morning. “In the evening, in the morning, and at noon I will complain and lament.” (Psalm 55)

Seriously? This ancient worship leader is actually committing to complain to the Lord three times a day? That’s not how I was brought up.

I was taught, no make that, it was drilled into my very fiber, through word and deed, to not complain. “I’ll be alright.” “It doesn’t hurt that much.” “No, I’m fine.” Those are my conditioned responses when life gets a little dicey. I guess that’s why my patience ran thin when folks came by to let me know “a lot of people are saying.”

We. Do. Not. Complain. Actually, we look at complaining with such distain that we don’t even use that word. We call it whining.

But there it was, straight from that part of scripture known as the Bible’s prayer book. Evening, morning, and noon; you’ll be hearing from me about how I’m not good with the way things are going.

So I tried it. I really did. I centered myself, took an attitude of prayer and complained. I mean you can’t go around for years suggesting that people pray the Psalms if you aren’t willing to give it whirl yourself.

Full disclosure, I didn’t jump right in there with a, “I need to speak with the man in charge!” I started with old habits. “Thank you Lord for this day, for all the loving people in my life, for giving me all I need.” And then I came to the part where I was intentionally going to do some complaining.

Hmm, what to complain about? Not the weather; a hurricane was coming to the coast but it’s hard to whine about the weather on a sunny autumn day in the mountains. No complaints in the food department either and a fellow that’s four years cancer free isn’t going to call attention to little sinus issue. Nope, it’s all good here. Sorry to bother you.

Wait. Now that we’ve brought up that hurricane, it doesn’t seem right to me that the vulnerable people of Haiti, the ones that I saw living in tents and plywood boxes, the ones just turning the corner after the earthquake, should have to endure a massive hurricane with no real shelter and no food or clean water at the corner grocery to stockpile.

Oh, and it’s getting painful to live in a political world where fact checking is just part of what we do. I really don’t think leaders should look the people, that they say they want to serve, in the eye and lie. That’s just me but put that one in the complaint box too. Oh, and while we’re at it:
– If you ask me, I think people ought to worry more about getting it right than being right.
– I want the black lives folks and the blue lives folks to start listening to each other.
– And I don’t like that some of my loved ones have chronic disease.
– Here’s another, why do children have to look into the empty eyes of their parents whose lives have been stolen by Alzheimer’s?
– And, why? I dare you to give me some cosmic plan about how it’s actually a good thing that children in Aleppo wonder each night if the bombs exploding will be the last thing they hear.
– I think it’s a piss poor thing that a fourteen year old shoots and kills a six year old.

No, it’s not alright, it hurts a lot, and we are not fine.

I guess I did have a complaint list after all. It went on for a while.

But it wasn’t whining. It was praying and when I was done I believe the Spirit spoke. “I hear you.” The complaint was mutual. To drift into theology for a minute, that is at least flirting with the heart of the cross. “I thirst.” “Where are you God?!?” “Forgive them.”

I don’t think that’s the end of the story. I do believe that somehow the One who said “Blessed are the poor, the ones that mourn, the persecuted…” will comfort and redeem but for now, perhaps it helps to know that we are heard. So,
Lord, in your mercy…
Hear our prayer (of complaint)