I once told a friend that my list of complaints was so long it probably went all the way to hell and back. She replied, in all seriousness, that it probably originated in hell.

I still reflect on this bit of wisdom years later. She had something of a good point to consider.

Sadly, our friendship faded away. She was someone I admired and appreciated, but perhaps some collision between the zig zags of her own life and my tendency to be a bit obnoxiously brash led to a slow distancing and eventual vaporisation… it will be nice to see her again one day. Even if she might join the list of other lost friends whom I hope to re-encounter in heaven, where our mutual adoration of God will manifest in utter joy in seeing each other there.

The complaints which she wisely commented on are usually of things that are common and predictable occurrences, in any case. The complaint serves what purpose exactly? To ask for sympathy, I’d guess.

“Oh, it’s so hot, and my back hurts and my paycheck is late and whatever shall I do about my noisy neighbors?”

These aren’t requests for helpful suggestions, since ordinary means of resolving them already exist and — complaints usually being repetitive — the same problems have been suffered through many times before. I suspect it’s a desire for unity of spirit and friendship. “Ah, this heat!” “Oh, it’s terrible.” “My, my so hot.” “It is indeed.”

Do we want the same when we offer a litany of praise instead of a litany of complaint? “My God, how beautiful the sky is today!” “Right? It really is amazing!” Probably, though I find the litany of praise a much less common component of ordinary conversation.

What about the litany of praise of sufferings? Hardly exists, I’d think. “Well, it sure is nice to have this quiet time in bed, now that I have the flu.” “Oh, I know what you mean, being sick is such a blessing.”

Saint Therese of Lisieux, sick in bed…