The rain falls gently to the pavement below as I watch puddles form from my office window. The air is humid, but the hot summer temperatures have now cooled. A chipmunk skitters across the driveway of the pretty red brick house across the street, and the neighborhood is quietly waking to another Monday morning in June.

Around me are neatly trimmed lawns surrounding maintained two-story homes where pots of flowers enhance the front doors. You can tell who the landscape experts are in the neighborhood. They always have a rake in their hands rather than folks like us who only use such a garden tool when we no longer spot blades of green grass.

An Amazon Prime truck rode by after delivering a package to someone down the street, and the rain seemed to leave with him. The sun is breaking through the gray sky, and I should soon spot Mr. Clyde walking his beloved little white dog.

I am waiting for our contractor to arrive this morning who will start cutting a wall in our kitchen to expand the pantry door and add more shelving. Meanwhile, my dining room has now become my pantry and resembles an old country store that has not been well maintained. If I need a new jar of jelly or a bottle of ketchup, I will find it faster by traveling to the grocery store than going to the dining room.

Some folks complain about the rain, the humidity, or the chipmunks digging into the pots around their front doors. Others might gossip about the sticks covering our yard, or the sounds of a buzzing contractor’s saw. Some people could experience nervous breakdowns over their dining rooms becoming unkept country stores, but as for me, I choose instead to be thankful.

How blessed are we who live in homes that provide warmth and shelter while rain falls outside our windows? How could I complain when there is green grass growing beautifully under my sticks or flowers blooming in pretty pots? The grocery store isn’t that far away if I can’t find the jelly, and besides, I am fortunate to have the luxury of a new pantry which will be filled with food. I look forward to seeing a delivery truck because someone somewhere is getting something new. And, how could one not love funny little chipmunks or Mr. Clyde who walks his little white dog?

Many words in life are spent on complaining over shallow stuff instead of being thankful stuff even exists. I go a little ballistic (ask my loved ones) when a group of friends are enjoying an evening dining together in a restaurant and then begin whining about the service or the food.

Even if the service is indeed not excellent, or the food is not to our satisfaction, isn’t the point of the evening to enjoy the fellowship of good friends? How richly blessed are we to have others to share life with?

Complaining about the little things in life is one of the most harmful activities we can participate in. When we complain, we lose our thankfulness and appreciation for our blessings; often behaving like spoiled brats.

Out my window, the sun is continuing to shine while others are experiencing floods which are washing away their roads and homes. I see cans and jars stacked in my messy dining room waiting to return to new shelves, while a child somewhere is begging for a morsel of food. There is a roof over my head while some exist under a tarp or a bridge. And, these thoughts remind me to ask God to aid them all and forgive me if a complaint utters from my mouth.

It is just another Monday morning, another day in the life of a suburban American woman who looks out her window watching the sun dry the rain, laughing at the chipmunk scurrying to another pot, and looking for Mr. Clyde to walk his beloved white dog.

She has no complaint.

“We can complain because the rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because the bushes have roses.” Abraham Lincoln

Lynn Gendusa of Roswell is the author of “It’s All Write with Me!” Essays from my heart. She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com.