"It's Nothing in the Great Scheme of Things"

Recently, I have noticed a growing trend amongst my friends. I keep hearing a phrase that I would happily recommend for a "phrases which should be banned" list (along with "God won't give you more than you can bear," but that's a whole blog post for another day): "It's nothing in the great scheme of things." I can't disagree that this can sometimes be true; I wouldn’t send it to ‘Room 101’ permanently. For example, on a Sunday afternoon, when washing-up is sprawled across my kitchen and I lament the golden days of dishwasher ownership, now I no longer have one, I concede that this phrase may be relevant.

However, I remain firm in my conviction that we should use the phrase with care.  Let me explain. Within the space of a few weeks, my friends have, collectively, used it for the following: a painful argument with a parent; a difficult breakup; feeling a bit lost and without purpose; missing a close relative who is stuck, visa-less overseas; feeling stressed about job pressures; and feeling overwhelmed by squabbling siblings. All of them felt bad for 'moaning,' concluding that their issues were nothing compared to what others were going through.  I know what they were getting at. I appreciate their sentiments. I am currently walking through a "Painful Thing," with capital letters. They were trying to be sensitive, sympathetic - not trivialising my pain by comparing it to theirs, even by subtle implication.

But I've been there – I think we all have. I've been the one sniffling through the Sunday worship because getting the children ready for church doesn’t match the claim of the song lyrics that Sunday mornings are “easy.” I have felt flattened because Ofsted have descended on my school. I've cancelled on a night out because I'm just plain exhausted from one more bedtime battle with my six-year-old. I have felt like the most hopeless human in history, for crumpling under those things whilst others were facing cancer, unemployment and relationship breakdowns. But those things mattered to me, were rocking my world and I needed time with God and others to face them, work through them, overcome them. I'm grateful for the people in my life who acknowledged the things causing me emotional angst and made me feel like they mattered, I mattered.

Of course we should be thankful and avoid ungrateful grumbling - the Bible tells us to 'give thanks in all circumstances' and modern psychology has proven that thankfulness can improve our outlook and mental health. It also tells us "the joy of the Lord is our strength". Both of these things are different, though,  to forcing yourself to be happy, putting a brave face on it, just because our problems are differently- shaped to that of the person in the next pew (or row, if you go to a less traditional church, like mine).

I am a sensitive soul and may be judging this phrase more harshly than it deserves, but to me, it communicates: "I don't matter, my pain doesn't matter, I am pathetic even to mention it." In saying and feeling this, people are putting down, stifling, their own hardships and frustrations, which is rarely an effective way to move forward.  When my precious friends let this phrase fall, indiscriminately, from their lips, I just want to hug them and hold them and remind them: your pain matters, your journey matters; you are precious to a God who counts all your tears, whatever has driven you to them.  He cares. He walks with you through it. Wholeness and peace is found in Him alone.  The Psalmist declares, “With my God, I can scale a wall.” That remains true, whether what we need the strength to scale is a four-foot garden fence or a towering, barbed-wire-topped prison wall. Whatever the size, whatever the height, God is cheering you on as you commence the climb. I will be cheering you on too, if you choose to share your struggles – as long as you promise not to tell me they're ‘nothing’ in any ‘great scheme!’