Complaints of a Privileged Christian

I am utterly ashamed of myself.

Sunday morning, when my alarm went off for church, I grumbled. You see, Saturday is my day to get up with M (my daughter), and Sunday is my day to sleep in. But I wasn't sleeping as late as I wanted, thanks to that doggone alarm.

I grumbled while I got ready. I grumbled while I got M ready (all in my head - while I do talk to myself, I'd rather not have everyone hear my entire internal monologue). I took her with me so that Mike could get some things done around the house.

I wanted to go back to bed and fight off the sinus infection that keeps threatening. I wanted to call off on the grounds of recovering from a particularly nasty ovarian cyst that had me in pain for weeks. I even (briefly) thought about how much more sleep I'd have in the long run if I'd just been saved a few years later. Definitely one of my uglier moments.

I got to church and got settled in. I sang half-heartedly along to the first song while bouncing M. Then our pastor's wife asked us to pray for a particular man. This man is in prison a long way from home. Countries away. And why? Because he dared to preach the gospel. Three years he's been imprisoned. Away from his wife and children. Suffering for his faith. For following Christ's command.

I felt about an inch tall.

Here I was, complaining about "having" to go to church, when, in quite a few other countries, they'd give anything to "get" to go to church. I can go to church on Sunday. I can sing at the top of my lungs. I can miss 2 minutes of the sermon because my toddler has walked to the row in front of me and loudly exclaimed "Ka-boo!" (peek-a-boo) around the chair while grinning widely at me. I can openly say that I'm going to a Bible study (which I am - it starts next week). I can walk out into the street and declare at the top of my lungs that I love and follow Jesus, and the worst consequence I'll probably suffer is someone telling me I'm nuts. Or possibly stupid.

It's not always easy to get up when you're tired or not feeling well. It's not always easy to sit for an hour and a half when you forgot to eat breakfast and your stomach is growling. But if these are my biggest "problems" with regards to being a Christian, I need to reevaluate my grumbling. I am privileged to live in a country where I can freely express my beliefs. Where others may think I'm nuts, certainly, and where the laws of the land don't always line up with the laws of God, and where not everyone may respect my beliefs; but where the government can't stop me. They can't silence my singing. They can't confiscate the praise song I wrote. They can't burn my Bible and send me to prison for what I believe. I am currently writing a blog, that anyone can read, and that I will share on social media, that tells everyone that I'm a Christian. That may not seem amazing to us, but it would be cause for joyful celebration to some people.

So I'm going to work on the cliche "attitude of gratitude" and quit my crabbing. And if you find yourself feeling more obligated than excited about God, I encourage you to do the same. I'll be right there with you on the path, stumbling, but always moving forward.