It’s been a road trip that just kind of happened.
You know, one of those trips where you start driving, not knowing where you’re going, but the road is easy so you just keep moving.
You travel on auto pilot.
I’ve started a trip to My Whining Place.
And the scenery’s not pretty.
Not a place that I send postcards from.
Good grief.
I’ve got to turn this travelin’ jalopy around.
The trip started so innocently…
Unexpected detours, closed rest stops, and really big potholes…
A few grumbles, discouragements, disappointments…
And pretty soon I’m just…whining.
Whining…whining…whining.
Poor me…poor me…poor me.
Ooftah.
Visiting My Whining Place is not a place I’d intentionally visit…
Or at least, I’d like to believe I wouldn’t.
But once I get there, it starts to feel…comfortable.
Like warm flannel pajamas with booties on a chilly, drizzly night.
Whining blames someone else
for my worn out spark plugs or dead battery.
Whining doesn’t ask me to change.
Whining tells me it’s my right to be hurt…upset…frustrated.
What a waste of energy and time.
Right?
Right.
So…
Because whining makes me miserable…
And really makes those around me miserable…
It’s time to change my destination.
Turnin’ around and travelin’ back to My Happy Place.
Where it’s less about me…and more about someone else.
It’s changing my thoughts.
Changing my heart.
Changing the words I choose.
Changing what I spend time thinking about.
And the thing that gets me every time I take this trip?
No one else can turn my jalopy around…
Except me.
No one shares the driver’s seat with me.
The choice is mine.
Philippians 3:14 “Do everything without complaining or arguing…”
The expectations couldn’t be clearer.
Stop complaining.
Roger that. Heading to My Happy Place.
