Grumbling and the Goodness of God

“Don’t grumble; don’t complain. Don’t grumble; don’t complain. Don’t grumble! Don’t complain!”

By the time I reach the fourth iteration of my little chant, what started as a scowling whisper has turned into a howling proclamation, as I jump up and down and pump my fists through the air. One of my kids is laughing and chanting with me. The other child has eyebrows furrowed in frustration. He has now shifted from grumbling about his dinner to protesting dad’s dancing. At that point, I really have no option but to tickle him out of his ridiculous bad attitude.

I do mean ridiculous. Our sin is insane, our sin is silly, and thus, our sin is worthy not only of sorrow but even, at times, of ridicule. The baseline response to willful, intentional sin in our house is discipline. But discipline serves instruction, and instruction serves formation. My goal as a parent is the formation of a whole and holy person; I want to see my kids’ imaginations, emotions, and inclinations all pressed into the mold of God’s own mind. I want them to think and feel and react to everything, including sin, the way God does. I want them to applaud God’s thunderstorms, hum for good cooking, gag at lipstick on a pig, grieve the lost, and scorn the insane sin of grumbling and complaining.

So, I will on occasion dance and chant in mockery of grumbling. I do it because truth is sometimes better sung than stated. And I do it because, when my kids grumble, I am tempted to grumble against them in response. There are times when I need the reminder more than anyone. (“‘Calm down!’ Dad shouted” is one of my favorite jokes to mutter when I’m angry.)

Sometimes I jump around and sing against sin because the only thing more ridiculous than a dancing dad is a grumbling one.

Why do I so quickly boil when my kids complain? Probably because I feel like they are making a statement about me and their mom. They’re saying, “I don’t like what you’ve given me. I don’t think you intend what’s best for me. I don’t think you know what’s best for me. I don’t think you care about what’s best for me.” The broccoli hits the dinner plate, the TV gets switched off, bedtime shows up like a brick through the window, and in a moment of frustration and bewilderment, they respond, “I know you gave me life and always provide for my needs, but you know what? I really don’t trust you right now.”

Grumbling Lies

Beyond being offensive, this is also tragic because it is untrue. My children are deceived about their parents — just like I am deceived about my heavenly Father whenever I complain. James warns us about this lie. He explains that sin comes from our own bent desires, not God’s designs. Anyone who believes otherwise, James suggests, buys into a lie. “Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers.” “Deceived about what?” we ask.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures. (James 1:16–18)

When I give in to the temptation to grumble and complain, I tell a story about my Father. I’m saying his designs are subpar, less than best, leaving much to be desired. Grumbling says that God is not a good and generous Father, that he withholds his gifts, that he is stingy. Even if I’m “just venting” or “just saying” or “just getting something off my chest,” I am looking at my heavenly Father and stating rather brashly, “I know you gave me life and always provide for my needs. More than that, you gave me new life and promise me every spiritual blessing and eternity besides. But you know what? I really don’t trust you right now.”

To grumble is to be deceived. Grumbling is a muttering meditation on the dis-trustfulness of God (which is where the deception comes in, because God is always trustworthy). Grumbling is the opposite of Psalm 1: The grumbler forgets about the law of the Lord and meditates on his own discomfort and the failures of others day and night. Grumbling vocalizes in hushed tones the belief that God gives bad gifts. Grumbling is a profound act of unfaith and disbelief in the fatherly intentions of God.

“To grumble is to be deceived. Grumbling is a muttering meditation on the dis-trustfulness of God.”

Consider the insanity of grumbling. What does grumbling get you? Nothing but more grumbling! By God’s design, the consequence for sin fits the crime. For example, the wicked fall prey to their own evil traps (e.g., Psalm 7:15; 9:15; 35:8; Proverbs 28:10). So too, grumbling will get you more grumbling. Grumbling is its own punishment. You want to play with the matches of discontentment and wave the torch of complaining around? Okay. Don’t be surprised when your habit of “just saying” finally burns the house down.

Or do be surprised. Marvel that you let yourself be deceived for as long as you did. And then grab a bucket of repentance and start dousing your discontentment with thankful faith in the fatherhood of God.

Every Good Gift Comes Down

Here’s a bucket to get you started: If you find yourself giving in to the temptation to grumble and complain, ask yourself, Why did God bring me to life in the first place? It wasn’t because you had the great idea of redemption and repentance. It wasn’t because one of your submissions to the Suggestions Box of Salvation finally got through to the right person’s desk. God saved you “of his own will,” and by his own power he “brought us forth” (James 1:18). Here James employs a natal term, which the NIV translates,

He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created. (James 1:18)

James is clearly talking about the new birth of salvation here, the new birth of the Holy Spirit. Why did he give you a new birth? To what end? “That we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures.” God aimed to make us preeminent in his restored creation. If he has already given us the gracious, generous gift of undeserved new life, why should we expect anything else in the future but more gifts of the same kind? If he willingly gave his Son for us, why would he withhold anything else (Romans 8:32)?

Imagine someone went to a distant country, found an orphan, spent a fully funded 401(k) to adopt the child, and then refused to meet his basic needs, skimping out on things like food and clothing. That would be an insane thing to do. But God is not insane. What is insane is for you and me to suggest with our mumbles and grumbles that God is ungenerous. So, let’s sing our way out of the impulse to grumble. “Calm down,” Dad yelled, and “Stop complaining,” he muttered. Oh, there is a better way. Learn to dance on discontentment and to smirk at the suggestion that the Giver is stingy.

Through Christ, God is our Father. We can trust that he only gives us good gifts, perfect and fitting, even when we don’t immediately recognize them as such. All he gives are good gifts, and every good gift is from him.

So, don’t be deceived. Have faith. Don’t grumble; don’t complain.