“You’ve got to give a little,

Take a little,

And when your poor heart breaks a little—

That’s the story of,

That’s the glory of love.”

—Billy Hill, 1936

I am a Bette Midler fan. I like the fact that I can, at nearly a moment’s notice, sink deeply into her voice. What satisfaction she must experience, knowing that her voice responds like a musical instrument.

And it is her voice, giving life to Billy Hill’s song, “The Glory of Love,” that has touched me this week — the week I was allowing myself to participate in way too much private whining.

Before I dive into the wonderful lyrics, I must take a moment to comment on whining: it was never allowed in my childhood home and it is quickly kiboshed in my home and classroom today. We all know how annoying whining people can be so as soon as my three children began talking my husband and I placed a once-and-for-all moratorium on whining. My kids know that my ears detect even the early syllables of a whine. They also know that I will, as sure as the sun rises, lose my good humor and swing into a discourse on the necessity of discussing and expressing displeasure with well-connected logic rather than inhuman groans, name calling or personal insults.

After 40-something years I am well practiced. Rarely will a whine cross my lips. But I have a confession to make: During the last couple of years, when facing life events like the sudden separation and eventual divorce of my parents, I have privately fussed and complained like never before and I do not like what it does to my outlook or my energy levels. This is why I chose to let Bette Middler sing to me this week from her “Beaches” CD. Surprised, I was not, when I realized God was speaking to me about my whining through the lyrics:

You’ve got to win a little,

Lose a little,

Yes, and always have the blues a little —

That’s the story of,

That’s the glory of love.

I realized not only had I set myself up by expecting more fun and adventure out of life — and less heartbreak, but I needed to do a little surgery: I needed to cut out even the private whining.

After all, I am not living a perfect life by any stretch of the imagination, but I am living the life I asked God for. Every choice I make includes obligations, sacrifices, and challenges — both the understood as well as the unpredictable.

Whining stops when we take responsibility for our choices. It also stops when we accept a tough reality: this life of ours will always include varying degrees of pain, frustration and exhaustion — experiences that never feel good and can sometimes be interpreted as undeserved, overwhelming, and crushing.

You’ve got to laugh a little,

Cry a little,

Until the clouds roll by a little —

That’s the story of,

That’s the glory of love,

So what does a person of faith do with strong breezes that threaten to sweep you away at worst, bruise and deflate you at best? What are you to do when you long to be free of those incessant obligations? When people you love process life in consistently different ways? When you cannot analyze or organize one thing more? When deserted island beaches look like heaven because your days are too short, friends are too few, the kids too demanding, the messes are too big, people’s attitudes are too self-serving, your bills are too high and your income is too low?

This week I took responsibility for my private whining and renewed my commitment to actively look to God — whom I know will provide me with strength and patience as well as people with the ability to teach and encourage me. The idea that a community of people can serve God, connect with Him, speak His peace, encourage each other and offer healing and hope and love is certainly not a new concept but one I am now realizing I have frequently avoided. That’s because it meant I would have to cut out the whining and be willing to shed some light on some of my most private fears and concerns. I’d have to trust people with my real self and my very real life. Americans are increasingly unwilling to participate in communal experiences yet I believe that God places a deep and consistent need for other people into our very beings. Meeting this need to connect and belong to each other by joining a small group is the subject of next week’s column. For now, let’s replace that private whining with a sweet little song.