When all of our children were home, I posted a small, square-shaped piece of paper on the refrigerator ~ no bigger than 2″ x 2.” In the center of this small paper was a teeny box, with words typed underneath the box: “Write your complaints in here.” My point was clear…though this little box wasn’t the cure for what we called the nasties.

How often do we walk into a room with the attitude that: ‘this room is my personal complaint department’? And then selfishly expect the ones nearby to patiently listen? With an attitude of entitlement, we demand the right to declare that we are ripped off, angry, undone, offended, or even worse off than polite words could describe! We are contagious…that is, contagious with the nasties.

Psalm 142:2 reads: “I pour out my complaint before Him; I declare before Him my trouble.” I’m pretty certain that no one else wants to hear my gripes and complaints.

Bob Sorge wrote: “Complain right and God puts it in the Bible. Complain wrong and He kills you.” [that is, He arranges more opportunities for us to die to ourselves]

“I cry out loudly to God, loudly I plead with God for mercy. I spill out all my complaints before Him, and spell out my troubles in detail. As I sink in despair, my spirit ebbing away, You know how I’m feeling. Know the danger I’m in, the traps hidden in my path. Look right, look left — there’s not a soul who cares what happens! I’m up against it, with no exit — bereft, left alone. I cry out, God, call out: You’re my last rescue, my only hope for life!  …Your people will form a circle around me and You’ll bring me showers of blessing!” Psalm 142:1-7 [Message]

Ahhhhh…relief! The cure for the nasties!