Whining in the wilderness

There are lots of stories in the Bible that pretty much blow me away. I was listening to a teaching a few weeks ago, and the pastor cited a story about the prophet Elisha. Apparently, according to 2 Kings 2, when a bunch of local boys were making fun of Elisha for being bald, Elisha called down a curse on them and two bears came out of the woods. And ATE. THEM.

Seriously. That ain’t something I saw on the flannel boards in Sunday School.

And then there’s the story of the exodus of the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. God, through Moses, had done all kinds of crazy miracles to show Pharaoh that He (God) was really in charge, and the Israelites had just walked through the Red Sea that God parted for them. Hollywood blockbuster type stuff, right? Things you’d never forget, right?

But they did.

And I have.

The Israelites were walking through the desert, making their way to the Promised Land, and like lots of us they got hot, hungry and tired. Exodus 16 tells the story of how the Israelites started whining that they were running out of food, and that things would have been better off for them if they’d stayed in Egypt. Even though God had promised to provide for them, and even rained down bread from Heaven, these folks thought life in slavery would be better.

And I’ve done the same.

I caught myself doing it just the other day. I was sitting down with my spreadsheets, trying to figure out how to come up with the money for my self-employment taxes, and caught myself whining to God about my situation. And the absurdity of it all struck me.

I have to pay income taxes – which means I have income. I left a job that made me feel incompetent and afraid, with no idea what I was going to do next, and I found work that I really love and am doing on my own terms.

And I’m whining about it.

Even though God has always – always! – come through for me, I’m wondering now if He’s gonna do it again. Just because my spreadsheet says I’m going to owe the government money. Like I’ve totally forgotten all the incredible ways He’s provided for me in the last decade.

I’m whining in the wilderness. And I’m not even in the wilderness anymore – I really think I’m on my way to my own Promised Land.

Sorry, Lord.