“Even the worst that has ever happened to you could have been worse.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Don’t mean to brag, but I am a 5th-degree black belt in the art of bitching. Each day I put on my best Miss America pageant smile, and feign contentment as I wave to the crowds. Yet my inside voice tells another story, a 30-chapter manifesto, a cauldron boiling with frustration. What’s the main ingredient in the milieu? Yessiree, a heaping helping of entitlement.
It shocks me to consider this fundamental flaw in my character. Actually, come to think of it, there shouldn’t be shock. It seems the human condition is to 1) want, 2) crave, and 3) strive to obtain. When the desire or outcome is not achieved, the prison of thanklessness creeps in and takes an entrenched position in my mind. I don’t think I’m alone in the struggle, the collective “we” are bombarded with thousands of sales pitches each day in our consumerist culture. My car, clothes, glasses, socks, soap and toothpaste all claim to be the God of true happiness, after one more purchase. According to Finder.com, Americans were projected to spend $87 billion on Black Friday and Cyber Monday to get our shopping fix. While #GivingTuesday is a newer “holiday,” and has risen substantially each year, it lags behind by a country mile at $380 million according to Non-Profit Source. The insatiable shopper in me says the two days will never close the delta, which speaks to our inherent nature.
That is the deep wound, the desire for more, and the sense of entitlement driving it. We compare and sulk, or compare and go harder to catch up. The momentary feeling of “I’ve arrived” is quickly jettisoned when I see others with a bigger, shinier position in life, and the accoutrements that come with it. Where it gets damn nasty is it affects my worldview. When I’m in comparison-entitlement mode, I’m on edge. Which for my wiring, makes me prone to argue instead of empathize, to lash out instead of listen.
The only effective solvent I’ve found is a posture of gratitude, and jeepers is it tough to bend to that position when wealth appears to be all around. I heard an interview with actor Henry Winkler this past weekend. If you’re of a certain age, you recall that he was one of the most famous people on the planet in the mid-70s. He said, “I live by two words ― gratitude and tenacity. Tenacity gets me where I want to go… And gratitude doesn’t allow me to be angry along the way.” Amen to you, Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli. Amen.
Scripture enforces the need for mercy and grace in my life, to gently and sometimes forcibly remind me of what’s truly deserved. In three crisp but explosive verses, Ephesians 2:3-5 says it all,
“All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions — it is by grace you have been saved.”
Yes, that’s much bigger than a shopping jones. That’s some grade-A theology making the point that I deserve nothing. Not happiness, not the big career, not love, not the air I breathe. Please hear me, I’m not recommending we all buy shirts that say, “Hi, I’m a dirt bag.” I am saying I have to get over myself and question this idea of what’s rightfully mine. That includes the realization that without the mercy and grace of Christ, my destination is a very bad place. Yes, I know the idea of hell is not popular. The real truth is we’re ok with it, as long it’s an eternal hotel for someone else. The heavier theology, which I’ve stated in the past, is God doesn’t send us there, we choose it. We are some rebellious “sumbitches,” and we very much want our way, same as we want our stuff on Black Friday. Our loving and gracious God has given us free will to choose whether we want to know Him, trust Him, and yes, surrender to Him as the greater loving authority; or do we want to do life on our own? When we choose the latter by our own volition, He with pained graciousness, allows us the permanent and eternal choice.
Yep, I hear ya,’ you can buck and bitch, I didn’t like the concept either, until I came to know God through Christ when I was 32 yrs old. After twenty years, I still wrestle with entitlement, but now wash it with an infinite waterfall of mercy and grace. It’s taken me years to fully comprehend verses like this little gem in 1 John 4:19,
“We love because he first loved us.”
That verse comes after verse 7 which says, “for love comes from God.” That’s the middle part of the chapter, and can sound all hippy-dippy. However, what it’s saying is all the empathy, patience, laughter and humility, the opposite feelings of bitterness and any perceived lacking? We got the good stuff from Him because He created us, and He loved us before we even considered His relevance. When I recognize that cosmic fact, everything changes. If I start my day with “Thank you Lord for friends. Thank you for walking and talking. Thank you for thinking and laughing. THANK YOU FOR SAVING ME FROM MYSELF.” If I do that, entitlement gets kicked to the curb, the same as I should’ve been, but for His mercy.
See ya next time. ML