How Can He Be So Ungrateful?

I had this question stuck in my head last week after an incident that involved Chick-Fil-A.  I’m sure I’m not alone here.  We were running late getting home for lunch and naps.  In an effort to make the day run smoothly and to have a fun summer treat, I stopped and got Chick-Fil-A for the kids to eat on the way home (oh well, and for me also of course).  I handed out the food and gave those who had cupholders their lemonades.  My four-year-old does not have a cupholder, nor does he have the ability to not spill a lemonade all over the backseat of the car.  Therefore, he was told that he could have his lemonade when we got home in 10 minutes.  He then proceeds into . . . I think you know what’s coming . . . whimpering, despair, and then full-on tears.  He is sitting there, holding chicken nuggets and french fries from the most delicious fast food chain in the world, while he cries because he has to wait 10 minutes for that lemonade.  In this moment, all I could think was: How can he be so ungrateful? He isn’t even enjoying his chicken nuggets and fries just because he has to wait for that lemonade.  His food is getting cold while he sits there and cries. He isn’t even enjoying the good thing that he has because he so worried about this other thing that he wants. I tell him to stop throwing a fit about the lemonade or he won’t have the chicken nuggets and fries either. This snaps him out of it, he calms down and happily eats his food. But this question stuck with me: How can he be so ungrateful?

Then tonight, I knew I needed to proofread my blog post and get it posted.  I had one already written and mostly ready, but knew I needed 30 minutes or so with it before I would feel comfortable scheduling it to post.  But I also knew that a certain four-year-old wanted me to put him to bed.  So I set aside my computer and went up to tuck him in, sing him a song, and pray with him before bed.  When I got in his bed he told me that he didn’t have his “bunny.” I told him I would go find it after I put him to bed.  I then proceed to start signing his favorite song as he proceeds into . . . oh yes, you know what’s coming . . . whimpering, despair, and then tears.  Because he has to wait for that bunny.  He cannot even enjoy the fact that I am putting him to bed because he wants the bunny.  Well, it was too much for me, I told him I was done putting him to bed, I got his bunny, gave it to him, and walked out.  But as I came downstairs, frustrated and sad, and asking myself that same question again, I realized — I am just as ungrateful as he is.   

It’s true. It might not look quite as silly as crying for a lemonade while I’m holding chicken nuggets and fries but the truth is that I also ruin the good things that I have because I want just one more thing or something different.  Even tonight, instead of relishing and appreciating the good gift of tucking my two boys in bed, I just wanted to get it done so I could get to work. I missed the beautiful thing in front of me because I wanted something else.  I was ungrateful for the work before me, tucking in two sweet kiddos.  I so often miss the good thing in front of me because I am focused on something else—desiring something else.  My heart and his, they look quite similar.  So even as I was writing this, I stopped, I went back upstairs.  I sang that song to that 4-year-old, told him I forgave him for being ungrateful, and that I loved him no matter what.  I told him that sometimes mama is ungrateful too and that we could work on that together, as a team.  The truth is, he is human, just like me. He sometimes misses the blessing that is right in front of him, just like me.     

This got me thinking, I often feel underappreciated.  I’m sure many of you can relate.  In a typical day I help get 5 kids ready for the day, play with those kids, make sure they practice piano and brush their teeth, break up 1,246 sibling squabbles, correct their behavior gently 134 times, correct angrily sometimes too (but hopefully less than 134 times), change 4 diapers, wipe a bottom 5 times, clean up 4.3 spills, sweep the floor twice, buy food, make food, clean up food . . . you get the idea.  Sometimes all of this work with little thanks can lead me to feelings of frustration and resentfulness towards my children.  And when I think about how I feel, I wonder, how must God feel?  He does even more than this for me and yet, it’s not enough for me.  I am not grateful. Tdhere is always one more thing that I need or this other thing that I want. But God does not become resentful of me, His steadfast love endures forever (Psalm 136).  I found this quite curious at first. But then I realized, the reason I feel resentful is that I am constantly thinking of me.  How all of these things affect me, how much work I am doing, what I’m not getting to do, how my day is being interrupted by yet another sibling squabble.  I don’t think God thinks this way.  I don’t think he spends all of his time thinking about himself.  

Preoccupation with self is simply one thing, pride.  And pride gives birth to a host of ugly behaviors – anger, envy, self-pity. I am ungrateful because of pride, I am pre-occupied with myself because of pride. But how do I fix this? How do I become less prideful? What is the antidote for pride?  

Humility. 

“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom.” Proverbs 11:2  (See also, Proverbs 18:12, James 4:6).  

So what is humility? And how do I get it?  

C.S. Lewis said “If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realise that one is proud.”  True humility, according to Lewis is “not thinking less of ourselves, but thinking of ourselves less.”  And so, to think of myself less, perhaps I should spend more time thinking of others. Perhaps there is no better place to start than by looking to the example that Christ gave us of humility.  As Paul describes in Philippians Chapter 2:

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.  Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Jesus did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped.  He knew who He was.  He knew what He was to do.  He emptied himself.  I am not God. When I try to be God, when I pretend to be God, when I try to grasp equality with God, this makes me ungrateful, it makes me prideful, it makes me angry and unhappy.  But, if I become a servant, look to the interests of others, lower myself—it’s a strange thing, but when I do this, it actually brings joy. So, this week I am going to be joyful and not resentful. I am going to look to the interests of others. I am going to think of myself less. I am going to be a servant. I know who I am. I know what I am called to do. I am going to see those blessings right in front of me. I am going to enjoy the chicken nuggets and fries, not worrying about the lemonade.