Quit Your Belly Aching in 2025

Years ago there was a bumper sticker that said “Quitchyourbellyaching” (i.e., ‘Quit your belly aching’)  The message was simple – stop complaining.

It’s a message that still resonates.  Life, living, family members, neighbors, co-workers, and ‘stuff’ that happens all provide us with ample opportunities about which to complain.

When I was younger I used to complain about bad drivers.  People who don’t use turn signals, for instance, still irritate me.  I could probably list a half-dozen things other drivers do and don’t do that bug me.

When my wife was in the car and I complained about another driver she would correct me.  Usually my complaint, directed at a driver who couldn’t even hear me,  began with “You bonehead” or “You idiot.“  My wife usually responded with “Be nice.  You don’t know what kind of day that person is having.  Maybe he just lost his job or a loved is in the hospital.”  My usual response to that was, “Or maybe he’s just a really bad driver.”

But whether my wife was right or I was right, I was still wrong.

The Father’s of Mercy have an “Examination of Conscience for Adults and Teens” pamphlet for Confession on their website.  One of the questions it asks is “Was I uncharitable in thought, word or deed?”  Calling the person a bonehead or an idiot is not very charitable.  So I committed a venial sin when I complained like that.

Saying something like, “use your turn signal fella,” is okay.  But when I called another driver a bonehead or an idiot, calling into question the person’s character or intelligence, I crossed the line.

Lots to Complain About

Let’s face it, there are many things to complain about.

The immorality in our post-Christian culture is a source of irritation (and sorrow) for many.  The confusion being reintroduced into the Church following the wonderful pontificates of Pope St. John Paul II and Benedict XVI is also a source of annoyance.  Politics and politicians, taxes, and the high cost of living are just some of the other big picture items that irk people.

And truth be known, I still complain on occasion.  I have been known to say in a very loud voice, “Who left all these lights on and isn’t even in the room anymore?  Electricity isn’t free ya’ know!”

Of course, complaining about the things immediate neighbors, friends, and family members do or don’t is an Achilles heel for many.  But as long as we are not committing the sins of detraction or calumny with our complaints we are not putting our souls in mortal jeopardy.  Correcting while not being judgmental or uncharitable toward others is okay, but it’s a fine line.

Still, Jesus’ admonishment about noticing “the splinter in your brothers eye” but not perceiving “the wooden beam in your own eye,” (Mathew 7:3), can be applied to complaining as well as judging.

I know I am far from perfect.  Even if I complain about things others do or don’t do, I know there are things I do that probably annoy others.

Complaining is a Downer

So I continue to work on not belly aching. But it’s not easy.

It doesn’t help that some people foster the notion the complaining is worthwhile.  ”Venting is good for you,” they say. “Get it out, don’t keep it bottled up,” we are told.  “Don’t let others walk all over you,” we are advised.  And let’s not forget, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease!”

At the same time, no one like to be around a complainer.  And even if we want to call it venting, it’s still complaining.

As this article at Psychology Today notes, “One unfortunate downside to both venting and to chronic complaining is that it can dampen people’s moods. In one series of studies, researchers tracked people’s moods before and after hearing a complaint. As predicted, listening to gripes made people feel worse. What’s more, the complainer also felt worse!”

The Saints

I don’t think the many saints down through the ages complained much.  And one of the takeaways from the book “The Stigmatists” is that the saints gifted with the stigmata did not complain at all.

St. Padre Pio could have legitimately complained about his detractors and the unfair treatment he received, especially from other members of the clergy.  Instead, he accepted their derogatory comments – and prayed for those who mistreated him.

Blessed Anne Catherine Emmerich also suffered from mistreatment by fellow nuns and those in authority.  Yet those that were closest to her said she bore any mistreatment with grace and dignity.

St. Gemma Galgani didn’t complain either.  For her, “everything was good, everything was equal . . . No one ever heard her utter a complaint, even in the midst of the terrible pains she underwent during her long sickness, or from the violent assaults of the devil” (The Life of Saint Gemma Galgani, by Fr. Germanus, pg. 88).

Crosses

Jesus tells us in Mark 8:34, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”

Of course, our crosses come in all sizes – some are big ones and some are small ones.  And those insufferable, annoying, small crosses (that we often make into big ones) plague us daily, and they can add up.

But St. Paul tells us in Philippians 2:14-15: “Do everything without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation . . .”

He also tells us in Ephesians 4:31-32 that “All bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling must be removed from you, along with all malice.  [And] be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you in Christ.”

Jesus is more concise.  After telling us how to live our lives in His Sermon on the Mount, He says simply, “So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mathew 5:48).  In saying this He is calling us to be saints here in earth.

Perfection is probably not attainable for us mere mortals.  But it’s still something worth shooting for.

I may not make sainthood here on earth, but I might shorten my time in Purgatory if I quit my belly aching.  Now, when I’m tempted to complain, I try to recognize the source of my annoyance as an opportunity.  Those little annoyances might be steppingstones on the path toward sainthood.