Complaining: A Perspective


In the Arizona desert, they call it a dry heat. Amid the salt marshes of Houston, in the summer, it’s more of a wet heat, and insufferable. And it’s summer 8 months a year.


I’m not stuck here, my feet aren’t planted in concrete or chained to an immovable object. I could relocate. It wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it if I really wanted to.


Here’s my confession. I have some health issues, not major ones, but chronic, requiring treatment and not likely to go away. My Doctors advise me that my condition would improve greatly if I lived in a climate with moderately low temperatures with even lower humidity.

But strangely, I’ve ignored their medical advice, have lived in Houston for 20 years, and in central Florida for 10 years before that.

And, as if that wasn’t enough, I worked for 5.5 years for a non-profit ministry serving the people of Haiti. I didn’t live there, but made several mission trips each year. If I thought Houston was hot, wow, Haiti taught me a whole new level of hot.

Not too smart am I?


So why do I complain about the heat? For crying out loud, I chose to live here. It’s not like I was tricked or something. I didn’t visit Houston on a cool, dry day in February and had someone tell me, “Oh, sure, its like this all year long.”

No, I knew it was a suffocating and debilitating wet heat.


On Saturday afternoon, I was phoning with a friend and we quickly drifted to whining and complaining about the heat and the brutal humidity. I did so from my air conditioned house while my friend spoke from the side lines of the game their kids were playing in.

sports day
Later that afternoon, I got a message from my friend telling me about a woman they had met and got acquainted with, she was also at the game to watch her son. As they talked back and forth, the woman shared that they had experienced fertility issues and didn’t  have their son until she was forty.

Then, she went on to share the her husband had just been diagnosed with end-stage liver disease, and that it was really bad. He only had three months to live.

Three months to live.

Somehow I get the sense that she wasn’t obsessed about the heat.

I guess some people just don’t know how to complain.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s