It all began with Exodus.
Well, not all because I certainly know that really the world as we know it began in Genesis, but rather I had this epiphany while studying Exodus:
I am a HUGE whiner. Or grumbler. Or complainer. However, you want to term it, I'm really into griping about everything. Of course, most of this complaining is done in my head because no one would want to be in a ten mile radius of me if I said it all aloud, but that doesn't make it any less bothersome. In fact, it makes it more bothersome because not only am I a whiner, I'm a closet whiner. And anything you do while looking over your shoulder to see if anyone is watching is never good. Anyway, it all started when I got irritated at the Israelites for their constant complaining.
First they complain about being slaves in Egypt. So God sends Moses to lead them out.
But it doesn't happen fast enough, so they complain some more.
Then the Pharaoh, who is holding the Israelites in bondage, increases their struggles by taking away the supplies they need to do their work but still expecting all the work be done. So they complain about the process by which God chooses to free them. All the while they are complaining, God is striking Pharaoh and the Egyptians with some freaky-serious plagues (read: boils on the body and frogs on every square inch of Egypt), yet the Israelites are spared. And they still complain.
So finally, Pharaoh lets the Israelites leave, and then they complain some more. They question how God provides even after he parts a freakin' sea for them to pass through unharmed. They complain about the lack of water. So God provides some wells. They complain about the lack of food. So God sends manna every day for them to eat. They complain, complain, complain, and their constant complaining was enough to send me over the edge.
"Come on, meatheads," I grumbled in my mind, "if God parted the Red Sea for me to walk through so I would no longer enslaved, what would I have to complain about?"
"If God provided wells in the middle of a desert for me to drink from ..."
"If God miraculously grew manna out of mist droplets on the sand ..."
"If God made it so that my shoes never wore thin ...."
"If God sent a cloud daily to protect me from the sun ..."
You get what I'm saying.
So in my head (because remember, I'm a closet griper), I'm really coming down pretty harshly on the Israelites. I actually like that God refers to them as stiff-necked people because it brings a little justice to the situation, and I want to scream out and chastise God for even bothering with such an ungrateful, irritating bunch.
And then I see this video:
And it hits home. Had I been part of the Israelite group, I would have been right there with the best of them grumbling about how perhaps God could send us different flavors of the manna he miraculously provided in the desert or about how I wished a gal could get some ice for her well water. I'm part of that wasted generation to which Louis CK is referring; I have actually yelled at my iPhone when it took more than two seconds to download a page on the Internet. Yup, that's me. I'm the gal who wants to chuck her phone across the room when it takes too long to travel all the way to space and back to connect to the Internet.
I'm a part of that bunch of stiff-necked people thousands of years later.
I'm grateful God bothers with such ungrateful bunches. I'm grateful He bothers to deal with me.