Those Days When It’s Easier to Whine Than Worship

Why do you complain, Jacob?

Why do you say, Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God”? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Isa. 40:27–29

Gracious Father, my parents had a distinct “get-over-it” body language in response to my whining—a grumbling usually connected to me not getting my way or having to wait for something longer than I wanted to. Nobody likes to be on the other end of a whine. Too much whine doesn’t do the heart good.

Today I find great delight in knowing that you are my perfect Father, and I am your beloved child—beloved, but still capable of great childishness, pouting, and sulking. I’m made for worship but prone to whining—especially when circumstances, people, and storylines don’t pan out the way I want them to; or you don’t do what I think you should. I’m sitting in some of that stuff right now.

Father, thank you for never rolling your eyes at us—never showing us irritation, disgust, or shame when our childishness is more obvious than our Christlikeness. The only look you “flash” at us reminds us of your welcoming, patient heart. Though you find no pleasure in our whining, you find great pleasure in us, because you’ve hidden our lives in Jesus. You don’t love us to the degree we are like Christ, but to the degree we are in Christ, which is 100%.

We hear you say to us in the gospel this June Thursday, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and you will find rest, because I will give you rest.” Thank you, Father. Turn our whining into worship, O gracious and ever-faithful, Father. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ great and grace-full name.