Stuff to Complain About

Here’s what I love: stuff to complain about.  I mean, sometimes, I wonder what we would talk about if we didn’t have things to gripe about.  Inclement weather, traffic, slow restaurants, achy muscles, bad cell service, slow internet, long lines, poor service in stores, cranky waiters, hangnails, sunburn, itchy irritants, frustrating tv commercials, frizzy hair, uncomfortable beds and so on and so forth. 

Most people complain out loud at some point during the day—we grouse to our spouse about the traffic or an unkind co-worker or the fact that the grocery store was out of eggs.  Some of us keep our complaints in our heads much of the time.  But they are still there—silent witticisms and inward eye rolls as we encounter various hindrances and discomforts throughout our day.  We all do it.  Whether aloud or noiselessly, we all tend to groan at the world.

This week has been no exception for me. 

We are on a family vacation with all of Bill’s family.  Wait wait wait!—I am not complaining (yet)!  We’ve done this sort of trip before—one beach house, four families, six grandkids, and TONS of fun!  Seriously, I love these people.  More on that later.

Back to my complaints.  The restroom.  Beach house restrooms are inevitably kitschy, sandy, and smelly.  This one was no exception.  The smell was urine-esque.  Sand was constant.  Mold was present.  And a spider joined me in the shower tonight.  I seriously felt grumbly every time I was in there.  Until tonight.  Tonight, is our last night in this house.  I was blissfully day-dreaming about my brand new, white-tiled, sweet-smelling, SANDLESS bathroom back at home—the one with glass doors instead of a mildewy shower curtain liner.  I was feeling freakishly excited about my bathroom back at home when it hit me.  I am so silly to be complaining about this all week. 

Here I am in gorgeous Gulf Shores, with a king sized bed in a house just steps away from the beach, plenty of yummy food and family I adore!  Oh sure, we all have our moments and misunderstandings (a week in one house with 13 people will do that to you).  But, the majority of the time, we were laughing, lounging, and easily enjoying one another’s company.  Since we don’t get to see one another very often, this was precious time full of crazy cousin clamor, memory-making, and catching up. 

I could have stayed home and used my sand-free bathroom all week, but then I would have missed family sea-shell searches, boogie boarding with the kids, making sand castles, counting stars, lighting lanterns in Dad’s memory, family pictures, late night card games, inside jokes (Pugnale!!  Dead turtle!), games of STAR in the pool, touching prayer times, snuggles with my youngest niece, poolside chats, silly-string wars, petting a lemur at the zoo, the sounds of gulls harmonizing with the crashing waves in the distance, the colors of the beach at dusk, the sounds of laughter from cousins, watching grandma build sandcastles with her grand kids  and hearing the squeals of laughter as the girls jumped the waves with glow-sticks in hand.

I would have missed all of that and more had I stayed home to avoid a few discomforts that come with travel.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s human nature to complain—my dad is in Paris (France!) and is blogging his complaints about the crowds and the stairs.  HOWEVER, he is also enjoying all the wonders of the City of Lights as well.  His list of lovely happenings and sights far outweighs his comical catalog of complaints.  Fortunately, he is not letting the inevitable discomforts of life steal his joy and wonder of exploring a historic city with someone he loves.

I may have had issues with the bathroom here at our beach house, but years from now when I think back to this week, I (probably) won’t remember the damp, sand-coated bathroom.  I will remember funny family members, silly stories, and poignant moments.  I will remember looking into the eyes of my nieces and nephew.  I will remember sea foam and sunsets.  But that is because I refuse to allow my complaints to overpower my thanks.  I am supremely thankful for a week away with loved ones.  I feel so blessed to have had an air-conditioned house right on the beach to spend the week.  I am even more appreciative for the family members who enrich my life.  I am also grateful for the moments that turn into memories, which are far more pleasant to fill my mind than ugly complaints about things I can’t change. 

How about you?  Will the complaints kill your joy?  Or will you make a conscious effort to see the beautiful blessings all around?  I was in danger of missing the beach for the sand. Let's combat complaining with thoughts of thanks.