Gripey or Grateful?

Over the weekend, we watched Unbroken, the true story of World War II POW Louis Zamperini. If you haven’t seen the movie or read the book, I won’t spoil it for you. Just know that for years, Mr. Zamperini endured one horror after another from sharks to gunfire to hunger and beatings.

My takeaway from the movie was that I should never, ever complain about anything again.  That was Saturday.  By Sunday, I found myself grumbling that I have to get up EVERY Sunday at 5:30 a.m. to go to work. I was disgruntled that I was driving to church in the dark due to daylight savings time. Today I was griping with anxiety over my every-six-months mammogram and that I have to even think about cancer at all.  Last week I got a tiny bit irritated that my mom called me six times in one day.  I also complained because my husband and son went camping and forgot half their gear and spent the equivalent of a nice hotel vacation replacing the forgotten items.  And yes, it bothered me that they took along a Keurig coffee maker because that just seems wrong on so many levels.

Today, I’m vowing once again to stop griping and be grateful.  I’m grateful for my job even with those early Sunday hours.  I’m grateful for the wonder of medical science watching over me with the newest technology.  I’m grateful for my health and the doctor who told me this morning “all clear.”  I’m grateful for a mom who is alive and well and wants to talk to me.  I’m grateful for a husband and son who want to spend time together, even if it is quite costly and they cheat on proper camping coffee- making.

I know we are pretty far into the Lenten journey to be giving up things at this point.  But I have to do it.  I’m giving up griping for gratitude.

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