Archive for August, 2007

Imagine my surprise today to discover an old website still haunting the internet that I had designed more than 7 years ago! I no longer have the internet accounts, so I can’t access it, but I’ve grabbed all the files and saved them. But check out the UAM BCM site from when I was the campus minister there. I served as the director of the University of Arkansas at Monticello’s Baptist Collegiate Ministry (known to some of you simply as the “BSU”) for eight years, 1995-2003.

I’ve done more writing about Rob Bell’s book Velvet Elvis than I care to. It’s really not that impacting of a book! Really. However, there’s so much buzz about it in some circles that it just keeps getting talked about, torn up, revered, and passed on. Cavman has written a series about his impression of the book, and this entry is related to the chapter on truth. It hits pretty much on my conclusions as well.

VE is not for the new or faint-of-heart Christian. It needs to be read with spiritual discernment, and I certainly wouldn’t advise it if you tend to take “Books” as authoritative (aka, “this guy got published, so what he writes must be absolutely true..”). However, it could be a good read just to stimulate your thinking… or to make you shake your head and say, “What’s the point?”

Based in Grapevine, Texas, the 121 Community Church site is very attractive, but also pretty basic when it comes to some of the sites I’ve been reviewing in this series. One of the reasons I wanted to give it a good once-over is because a fellow OBU grad and Southwestern alum is the senior pastor there – Ross Sawyers.

One of the things that struck me about their site is first of all life and then second of all busyness. There were so many to click and pursue from the main page. Drop down menus, flashy things, glitter, a new CD coming out by their worship team, the ability to register to become a childcare worker, etc… Whew.

They have a well-developed site, and I know they’re proud of it; however, after reviewing it, I began to wonder if perhaps simple isn’t better? The positives are that a person who has time to research and wants to find out more about 121 CC can certainly do so! Everything is there to be discovered. The downside to the site (and many church sites) is that just because you can design a site to contain everything and the kitchen sink doesn’t mean you ought to.

It made me wonder and begin to brainstorm a little about how to use your ministry site as a steamlined pointer. Identify one or two central purposes for your site and then funnel all the design technique into directing vistors toward a certain place. I think Northpoint Community Church has done an excellent job with their landing page that directs first-time web guests or church visitors to a certain spot, members to a spot, church leaders from around the world to a spot, etc.

However, I’d encourage you to stop by the church site and tell me what you think. If this is your first time to visit one of the church sites in this series, look at some of the others I’ve done and compare 121CC to them.

I’d love to visit 121CC someday, and I’ve subscribed to a few podcasts in order to catch up with Ross.

Get it? INTP… I in teepee? Hahahahahah… Uh, ok, nevermind. However, I stumbled across this new personality site that is pretty cool. Check out my results:

You can also join a new group I’ve created there.

Here’s the skinny on an INTP:

• “INTPs are relatively easy-going and amenable to most anything until their principles are violated, about which they may become outspoken and inflexible. They prefer to return, however, to a reserved albeit benign ambiance, not wishing to make spectacles of themselves.” – INTP Profile (TypeLogic)
• “The INTP is above all a thinker and his inner (private) world is a place governed by a strong sense of logical structure. Every experience is to be rigorously analysed, the task of the INTP’s mind is to fit each encountered idea or experience into a larger structure defined by logic.” – An INTP Profile (intp.org)
• “INTPs live in the world of theoretical possibilities. They see everything in terms of how it could be improved, or what it could be turned into. They live primarily inside their own minds, having the ability to analyze difficult problems, identify patterns, and come up with logical explanations. They seek clarity in everything, and are therefore driven to build knowledge. They are the “absent-minded professors”, who highly value intelligence and the ability to apply logic to theories to find solutions.” – Portrait of an INTP (The Personality Page)
• “The Architects’ distant goal is always to rearrange the environment somehow, to shape, to construct, to devise, whether it be buildings, institutions, enterprises, or theories. They look upon the world — natural and civil — as little more than raw material to be reshaped according to their design…” – The Portrait of the Architect Rational (iNTp) (Keirsey)
• “INTPs contribute a logical, system-building approach to their work. They like being the architect of a plan, because of the scheming and thinking involved, far more than being the implementer of that plan. Implementation tends to be drudgery. They are content to sit back and think about what might work, given their view of the situation. INTPs may ignore standard operating procedures. The hours that they spend are not what is important to them, but rather the completion of their thought process” – INTP – The Wizard (Lifexplore)
• “…likes solitude, not revealing, unemotional, rule breaker, avoidant, familiar with the darkside, skeptical, acts without consulting others” – Jung Type Descriptions (INTP) (similarminds.com)

Check out the Journey site for more info. If you’re interested, we’re having a group at our house. We’d love to have you! There are other groups as well, but none of them offer free iPods for coming. would you come if they did?

I just finished laughing my head off at this spoof on The Bourne Ultimatum from Jimmy Kimmel’s show. Don’t worry, the cussing censor-beeper-dude is on the top of his game. You won’t be offended, unless you can read lips.

Carolyn’s junior year started out, in my opinion, much better than her sophomore year. For one thing, she was sporting an expensive diamond ring purchased at the fine gem establishment in Granbury, Texas known as Dave’s Jewelry. For another thing – and this is just my opinion – she was now living with the realization that she had been wrong on two important matters concerning our relationship:

• She not only did date Jeff Noble…
• She had agreed that summer to marry a “preacher”

I was convinced it was smooth sailing from there on out. After all, if your new fiancee starts off knowing that you are consistently right, then how can things ever go wrong?

All it took was a phone call.

Caro was selected to be on Ouachita’s homecoming court that fall, representing SELF (Student Entertainment and Lecture Fund… now, as an aside, I’ve got to say that the name of the club never made much sense to me. I mean, come on – raising money so that students could be entertained by a lecture? Seemed like a terrible waste of energy to me. But they knew a beauty when they saw one.)

Uh, Carolyn just now corrected me. She represented OSF – Ouachita Student Foundation, which is, of course, a much more prestigious (and less narcissistic) organization than SELF. However, due to the fact that I chuckled out loud at the creation of my previous paragraph, I will claim that I was right (after all, that’s how this part of the story begins) and chalk up Caro’s claim to the contrary as her attempt at revisionist history.

Back to the phone call… well, in a minute.

I flew in from Texas to escort Carolyn across the football field on that glorious Saturday. I was extremely proud to have this brunette on my arm. I’d never before escorted a Homecoming babe before.

Things had changed for me in Texa, job-wise. Shortly after beginning my seminary studies, I’d seen an advertisement on the school job board for a youth ministry/associate minister position at Tolar Baptist Church – just 20 miles from the children’s home I was working at.

It had only taken me a few short months to 1) make some friends with my co-workers that would last to this day, and 2) to realize that I was most definitely not called to work at a children’s home. The highlight of my short stint there was consistently catching one of my junior high boys smoking in his room after hours. What made him think that cigarette smoke couldn’t be smelled out in the hallway?

I applied for the position, was interviewed by Pastor Milton Perry (who became a very good friend) and began serving there. They even had a little house for me to live in. It was great. I was for the first time living completely by myself. I would have felt a lot more like Survivor Man if I wasn’t driving a Geo Metro.

Fade back to Arkadelphia. Stunningly gorgeous fall day and fiancee. I stayed through Monday, with Carolyn and her mom as Caro had to have a lump removed from under her arm. She’d had one in high school, and it had been removed as well – no big deal.

After the procedure, I drove back to Tolar.

I got the phone call the next day as I sat in my office at the church working on a paper.

“Jeff, it’s cancer,” said the halting, quietly sobbing voice.

The only thing I can really remember about that day is how unreal it seemed. I felt as if someone had pushed the pause button on the soundtrack of my life. My life music had been playing softly in the background for a while, and it was getting better and better. I wasn’t really paying attention to its melody; I just knew it was there.

The phone call brought abrupt silence, and I had no idea what tune (if any) I’d hear from that point out. The mention of cancer meant the worst to me, but at that very moment, it was as if a different track began to play. The music that began to reverberate through my soul had a different tempo and a majestic deep tone to it. It was not carefree but it was comforting. It progressed with purpose, and as Caro and I processed things on the phone, and I found myself strangely calm and providing comfort to her.

Carolyn’s mom was gracious enough to fly me back in to Arkansas for Caro’s doctor appointment in which he explained that the cancer was Hodgkin’s Disease and treatable. We cried together and found in the shock and quietness a deeper love and support than either of us could have alone provided for the other.

We prayed together and reoriented our life hopes and dreams to the reality of the next few months which would involve chemotherapy and radiation. (Caro reminded me she only had radiation, every day for 9 weeks. A different OBU friend drove her to Little Rock and back each day during that time.)

We had made some initial plans that fall to be married that next May, in 1992. Caro had figured out a way to graduate in three years if she loaded up on classes in the fall and spring and took summer school CLEPed Spanish the following year summer (she had taken the CLEP two other times and failed). Everything would have to happen like clock work.

However, at this point, the hands were frozen into position.

To be continued…

Tim has done us all a favor by posting an excerpt from one of George Whitfield’s sermons in which he teaches his listeners how to receive the most fruit from a sermon. Interesting take. Whitfield was one of the prominent preacher/theologians during the Great Awakening, and he stands as one of the great preacher-teachers of all time.

Here are the main points:

1. Come to hear them, not out of curiosity, but from a sincere desire to know and do your duty.
2. Give diligent heed to the things that are spoken from the Word of God.
3. Do not entertain even the least prejudice against the minister.
4. Be careful not to depend too much on a preacher, or think more highly of him than you ought to think.
5. Make particular application to your own hearts of everything that is delivered.
6. Pray to the Lord, before, during, and after every sermon, to endue the minister with power to speak, and to grant you a will and ability to put into practice what he shall show from the Book of God to be your duty.

I’d highly encourage you to read the post over at Tim’s blog. Which points particularly strike you? What might you add?

It was a rather strange caravan to Fort Worth that May weekend. I was driving my red Geo Metro (and no, the color red did not make it more “sporty”), towing a small U-Haul trailor will all my earthly possessions. Caro was following me in her Nissan Sentra with some of my stuff – but mostly hers, since she would be going on to New Mexico for a few weeks from Fort Worth.

These were pre-cell phone days, and we had devised a little system to keep us occupied. We had two mini-tape recorders, and while we were driving, we would essentially just ramble on with each other. We would talk about life, about stuff we saw on the road and about the future and past. About every hour or so, we’d stop, exchange tapes and listen to each other. It made the trip pass quickly.

In the quiet moments, I can remember praying and being mournful/expectant. It’s just hard to describe, even now, the idyllic life I felt I was leaving behind in Arkadelphia. Mitch and I had rented a house outside Arkadelphia a few months before, and it was incredibly peaceful. There was a pond out back that Caro loved to fish in. I would row her around while she caught all kinds of stuff.

I was thinking about all these things as I drove. However, I was also looking forward to my new job at Happy Hill Children’s Farm (no, they didn’t plant and raise them there). I was going to be a living unit coordinator in one of the junior high boys’ cottages. I would be starting seminary in August, and Caro had begun to map out a way for her to possibly graduate in three years, which meant we would only have to spend a year apart.

I had managed to sell my portion of Advantage Advertising for $15,000 and over the course of that summer, I started to live like it. I bought a brand spanking new Mac LC (looked like a gray pizza box), began collecting baseball and football cards, and a few other purchases.

One of those purchases involved a huge step of faith and commitment for me. Caro and I had been talking marriage for quite a while. I think we both knew that was the direction of our relationship the day I got off the plane the summer before. I truly couldn’t imagine spending my life with any other person. (Insert every corny, Jerry Maguirish, syrupy relational cliche here). To put it bluntly, I was not simply “in love” with Caro. She was God’s provision for me. At one point, I showed her how God created Eve as a “helpmate” for Adam, and she began signing her letters to me as “Your Helper.” We’ve done that off and on for each other ever since. I can’t think of a better way to describe how we saw one another – as best friends, companions, helpers, encouragers, and lovers.

There was one moment on the trip that still means a lot to me. We had been driving through pretty constant rain, and it began to dampen my mood and hopes as well. All the questions like, “Am I doing the right thing? Am I crazy? What am I thinking?” were bouncing around in my head about seminary, moving, etc. We were about 15 miles southwest of Fort Worth, and we suddenly drove out of the rain. One moment, it was pouring, the next it wasn’t. However, as we crested the next hill, I was stunned by a remarkable sun-drenched vista. It was beautiful. The sun was setting in one of those gorgeous west Texas skies, and I remember saying into the tape at that moment something like, “Wow. I’m going to take this sunset and sudden clearing as a sign from the Lord that He indeed has a bright future for us.”

Caro helped me move in to my new apartment there at the children’s home, and then left the next day. She would go home for a few weeks before going back to Arkansas to live with my folks for the summer in Little Rock while she did a chaplaincy with Baptist Medical Center there. She returned to NM for the second summer term to take an Art course at the junior college in Hobbs.

I really began to enjoy my work at the children’s home. I met some incredible friends there, including Ben Phillips who started just a few weeks after I did. Gary Glover, John Morgan and others became great encouragers, and even though Caro and I were miles apart, we nurtured our relationship through phone calls and letters. (pre-email days as well!)

The biggest event of the summer happened in July.

I had met Carolyn’s youth minister, Kevin Wieser, earlier that year when he had come to Arkadelphia to bring some prospective students. (I think that’s why he came – can’t remember.) He was an OBU grad as well, and he and I and Mitch had hit it off. I can recall Caro’s consternation to find the three of us spending several hours trying to conquer Super Mario Brothers on the Nintendo rather than visiting with her.

I called Kevin in Hobbs and asked if he would help me with something… I wanted to propose to Carolyn. I wanted to do it in a place and in a way that would be especially meaningful to her. Since she was so involved in her church youth group, I wanted to propose to her on a Wednesday night – in the weekly youth group meeting called Joy Explosion. He happily agreed and arranged a night devoted to the topic of marriage and healthy relationships.

Long story short… I drove to Hobbs with my major purchase of the summer – a diamond ring. I planned to ask her to marry me on July 3 – exactly one year after I’d stepped off that plane in Hobbs with a commitment to “commitment.” I don’t remember much of the evening except my cue… Kevin introduced us to the youth group and said, “Isn’t it sweet that Jeff and Carolyn are here tonight, and they’ve been dating exactly a year today?” Caro turned beet-red, and said, “Kevin!”

He then said, “Ya’ll come on up here for a minute.”
Caro (and me too, honestly) cringed.
“Soooo, if you guys have been dating for a year already, what’s taking you so long? Jeff, have you thought about marriage?”

As Carolyn turned to Kevin in embarrassment (and hit him as I recall), I dropped to one knee. There was some gasps from the large crowd, but I was too nervous to worry about everyone else. I pulled out the ring, and as Caro turned back around to me, she saw me, on one knee, with a ring in my hand. I blurted out the question, knowing already in my heart her response. It was a joyful formality at this point.

Caro simply embraced me and started screaming/crying/laughing. At some point, I remember Kevin laughing and saying, “Well, what’s your answer?”

“Yes!” she said.

It was an incredible moment. As I’ve pored over pictures and memories telling this story over the past week, I still smile at this particular event. I relive it all over again. My heart was racing. I was terrified, honestly. Yet, I have never been surer of anything in my life. And I’d do it all over again today.

There were no moments to top the emotion of that moment for the rest of the summer. However, as Caro returned to OBU that fall, there was to come a moment that derailed us both…

To be continued…

Stumbled across Phil’s blog where he simply took a picture of the stuff he carries around. Then I noticed there’s a whole Flickr group for it. What the? I clicked over and 5 minutes later had to walk away. I was just too fascinated by the stuff people carry… Weird.

But here’s the stuff I carry. How about you?

Where were we? Oh yeah… early 1991. A surrender to ministry. Plans for seminary. A little over six months in a romantic relationship with my best friend – Carolyn that is. I always feel like I have to qualify that because Mitch and I had been like brothers since our freshman year.

We had actually met our senior year in high school at a yearbook editors’ workshop of some kind. He’s the one with the elephant memory – he probably even remembers what we were wearing (or is that more like a woman’s memory?).

We ended up by “chance” having rooms next door to one another on the first floor of Daniel South dormitory at OBU our freshman year, and from then on out, we were always next door neighbors/best friends. He roomed with another great friend of ours, Dennis Tucker – who is now teaching at the George Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas – until our senior year. At that point, Mitch and I got an apartment together. By the time Caro and I started dating, we had moved into a house on 26th Stree but later located to a great country home outside Arkadelphia in a little community known as Cedar Grove. It was there that Mitch hung our first and only pet – Petey. Sniff.

My friendship with Mitch and my other friends, played a huge role in mine and Caro’s relationship. Whenever any of us “dated,” it was always a rather awkward thing of whether the girl would “fit in” to our network of friends. It was a pretty unusual group. For one, we had no boundaries, it seemed. We were always playing practical jokes on one another, borrowing things from the other, and in each other’s dorm rooms or apartments until the wee hours.

It was the most fun-loving group of friends I’d known to that point. Mitch and I worked together in the yearbook office – he was editor, and I also wrote a weekly column for the school newspaper. We spent hours together in Fleniken – the journalism empire of Ouachita. It was there that we were first introduced to Macintosh computers – way back in 1987. We never looked back.

In addition, Mitch and I always seemed to either be the brunt of someone else’s practical joke or were on the giving end of one. The police were occasionally involved. So was the dean of students. And fireworks. Possibly a permanent marker or two… Anyway, I digress.

The whole spring semester of 1991 went by in a blur for me. Mitch and I were talking seriously about how I could gracefully transition out of our advertising business. Another friend eventually stepped in with a desire to purchase my share of the company, and it looked like things would continue growing.

However, I was ransacked with bitter-sweet emotions all during that spring. I applied and was accepted to Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary’s master’s program for M.Div. I located a job at a children’s home about 40 miles southwest of Fort Worth. Yet, I was leaving Arkadelphia, which in many ways contained some of the most carefree and wondrous moments of my life. It was really in Arkadelphia and at OBU that I began to “come into my own.” The friendships I established there continue to this day, and the thought of leaving was hard to swallow.

In particular, I wasn’t real keen on leaving Carolyn. We had dozens of deep conversations, and as we both came to grips with the idea of continuing our relationship long distance, we also discovered the peace that came from each of us recognizing the other as a gift from the Lord. We simply knew that if Christ remained central in our relationship, we would be blessed by whatever happened.

That spring semester was one of laughter, joy, simplicity and getting to know each other. Carolyn worked the switchboard at OBU, and her office was inside a glass “cage” in the old Grant Administration Building. I used to try to sneak into the building at night (I think she worked till 9 or 10 each evening) and scare the willies out of her. We often drove to Hot Springs on the weekend to eat at our second favorite place – La Hacienda (we love it to this day). Our first favorite was Kreg’s Catfish in Arkadelphia, but it closed down a few years after we left.

Carolyn was as active on campus as I had been, and while Mitch and I had a busy work schedule, Caro was deeply involved at school too. From her social club to the Ouachita Student Foundation, Baptist Student Union, well.. you get the drift.

Carolyn and Mitch had known each other about as long as Carolyn and I had known each other. Mitch and I were so often together – work, classes, social lives – that you pretty much got a package deal. I didn’t realize during the end of that spring semester that Mitch and Carolyn had begun to plan and talk behind my back.

It wasn’t until after the damage had been done that I found this note that had been sent out to over a hundred students, faculty, friends, and family:

Glad I didn’t find out until after the fact. It still sends chills up and down my spine today.

My two best friends collaborated behind my back to “roast” me. To this day, I wonder at the thought of a 23 year-old guy getting a roast. Surely I hadn’t been that obnoxious? I mean, come on. I’m a real sweetie.

However, I was somehow fooled into showing up at Third Street Baptist Church’s fellowship hall one evening in May and was greeted with the uncomfortably joyful-bowel-emptying sight of a room full of family, friends, old girlfriends (several), church staff, deacons, social club-fraternity/sorority members, OBU faculty and well, the list goes on. My worlds were colliding like freight trains.

One by one, different “friends” got up to share something they remembered about me. There were some very uncomfortable moments as I realized that all my exes didn’t live in Texas. They were there… and talking. Why wasn’t the air conditioning working very well, I kept thinking to myself. My former pastor, Gary Turner, couldn’t be there but had made a video tape of him going all over town talking to people about me. It was hysterical.

There were also gifts. I was overwhelmed. Truly. To this day, I wonder what in the world really happened that evening? Why would all those people come together? Surely it wasn’t just for the sheer maliciousness of making me uncomfortable? Ok, so it probably was. However, I was asked to say a few words, and I confess I have no idea what I said, but I do remember something getting in my eyes and throat. Must have been allergies, I suppose. Mitch apparently had the same allergies, because his eyes were doing the same as mine when he shared.

It all seems rather surreal looking back on it. Caro and I really only had one school year “together” at Ouachita. It seems like we had forever… And I was fixing to leave in a few short weeks to begin a new job, in a new state, with a new direction in life. I had never been in a long distance relationship before. Caro and I talked about marriage even at that point, but she and her mom were adamant about her finishing school, and I knew it was probably the wisest course of action.

So, with very mixed emotions, Caro and I loaded up a U-Haul, my new-to-me Geo Metro (I had sold my Geo Tracker cause I thought it would sensible. I regretted it for a long time) and her Nissan Sentra and headed out to Texas one weekend to move me to Granbury, Texas.

To be continued…

John Piper wrote an article back in 1999 that still speaks strongly today. It’s a great read.

If you’re still reading this burdgeoning epic, it must mean you’re wasting time. ;)

Our Christmas in 1990 was going to be spent apart. Caro went home to Hobbs, while Mitch and I worked all month. In Caro’s massive college scrapbook, I found several letters that she’d saved from me during that December. They reveal what I hinted at in the last entry… a deep internal struggle. However, it wasn’t with our relationship; rather, it was with God.

I had assumed back in my junior year that the business Mitch and I had started would be a long-term career for us. We simply had a blast together as business partners and friends. A day in our office in the Enterprise Center, downtown Arkadelphia (our second location, actually) was full of pranks, laughter, design, and Mac-loving ingenuity. A local bank liked our business plan (of course, it helped that Mitch’s aunt was one of the VPs) and fronted us a small business loan in 1988. With that, we had purchased some MacPluses and Mac Plus SEs as well as a scanner, laser printer and later a massive (at the time!) 19″ black and white monitor.

We hired a great friend who was our first “secretary.” It was a long discussion between Mitch and me whether we should since she and I had “dated” before. Since we had remained great friends and genuinely had no issues with each other, we did so. She brought a level of organization to the office that Mitch and I didn’t have.

I say all that to say… that December I was feeling “funny” (more so than usual) about life and particularly my role as an entrepreneur. The more I’d taught collegiate Sunday School at Caddo Valley Baptist Church with Scott Duvall as my pastor, the more I kept sensing that God was “up to something in my life.”

It was after Caro left to go home that I ended up getting to spend a lot of time with Scott, one-on-one, talking about life, my future, Carolyn, and my relationship with Christ. He was instrumental in helping me see what I hadn’t accepted before – that God was “calling” me to serve Him in a unique, focused way.

I had always enjoyed serving His people, but I had never thought of myself as a minister. It was rather humorous for Scott to help me unpack the fact that since my freshman year in college, I’d served in various youth ministry positions and even as assistant to the pastor at Third Street Baptist Church before leaving there. He asked, “Where do you receive the most joy from working?” While I absolutely loved design and advertising, I had to say, “From serving God and His people through teaching and discipling…”

In my letters to Caro and on the phone that winter, I was processing with her all that meant. I was scared to death. To me, answering a “call” from the Lord was essentially saying “yes” to anything He asked. I knew it could mean the Middle East or the Orient or even Hawaii (I had my hopes up).

During all this, I was a little mopey about being separated from Caro during Christmas break. My birthday is January 5, and although Mitch and several buddies drove up to Little Rock for a party my folks arranged, I was a little bummed about Caro being gone. During the party, I was ushered into our garage to open a large birthday present with a bow. I had barely got the bow off when Caro jumped out of the box screaming and laughing (she was fully clothed, you gutter-minds!). Of course, I was thrilled – after changing my pants. So we got to spend my 23rd birthday together after all.

Over the next few days and weeks, Caro, Mitch, Scott and I talked deeply about the implications of my call to ministry – for me, for Mitch, for us, etc. I finally “surrendered” – and it was a big deal for me – to the Lord’s call that month and began making plans to enter seminary that fall.

Of course, that meant that Caro and I would be separated. She was just completing her sophomore year and would begin her junior year in the fall. Mitch and I began making business plans for our transition, and unbeknownst to me, Caro and Mitch began making some plans of their own…

To be continued…

I was somewhat amused to see an article on how to stop complaining show up at blog-monster Lifehacker today. Lifehacker consistently ranks among the top 5-10 blogs in the world. Imagine that it found the linked article about the importance of not complaining as an important link.

The apostle Paul wrote a much shorter summary and linked it to a much higher reason in Philippians 2.14-15:

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe..

Ever thought that a positive demeanor helps you “shine” out the fact that you may be related to Creator God. On the other hand, a consistent complainer, by inverse, may be more closely related to… (insert Church Lady voice here).

Watch your negative output. It can shrivel your soul and even create a friendship famine. No one enjoys being around persistent drip. As the author of the linked Lifehacker entry said,

“Complaining is the denial of responsibility.  And blame is just another way of excusing yourself from being responsible.  But this denial still wields its own creative power.”