It is October 21st, almost exactly one month after the official first day of autumn. By this time, as is fitting with the falling of the red leaves, the drop in temperature and the advent of pumpkin and apple flavored everything, the general consensus of people have swapped out their summery shorts for jeans, succumbed to wearing a jacket when outside the house and, if they are anything like me, lost their sunglasses because they were too lazy to put them somewhere logical.

Well, if this description fits you, then you probably don’t live in western Pennsylvania.

Each year, Autumn enters western PA with a new take on the weather. The outfits of the student body at my college outside of Pittsburgh have mirrored the confused state of the weather: You might see students in shorts and t-shirts and flip-flops one day and then see those same students the next day in long pants, boots and flannels. (This is excepting, of course, the couple of guys who are oblivious to the changes in weather and wear shorts through February and the few girls who are so eager to dress in fall fashions that they step outside wearing boots, legwarmers, and stylish jackets as soon as the first leaf hits the ground, no matter the temperature.)

Despite the fact that the time I spend in deep contemplation every morning as to an appropriate outfit to wear consists of stepping onto the living room balcony to feel the air and then narrowing my eyes at the sky, I am usually not aware of what the weather will turn out like that day. (I’ve heard there’s such a thing as “checking the forecast,” but that sounds a bit too advanced for me.) This morning, though, even before I got up, I was informed by the rain droplets sliding down my window that it would be a wet day.

I haven’t used my umbrella yet this season. Granted, I did leave it at my parent’s house, but regardless of that, there just hasn’t been a rainy day this fall. Maybe that’s why it was especially irksome to me to hear nothing but complaints from students throughout the day in regards to the rain. This isn’t a new occurrence; it’s fair to say that I hear it every time it rains from students, faculty and community members alike. And if I’m being honest, I am not always an exception. Yet why, after we’ve been blessed with almost a month of sunshine and dry weather, do we feel the need to whine about one rainy day? Where did we ever get the idea that sunny days are “normal” and a rainy day is an interruption of that which we have come to expect day after day?

Perhaps this tendency to complain about unsatisfactory weather signifies a deeper issue, one of entitlement. Did you ever think that maybe we complain about the rain because we feel entitled to sunny weather? Or perhaps we are ungrateful for the rain, thinking that we simply cannot be happy under any other conditions than sunshine. If either of these is the case, then there is no simple solution. We already know that complaints cannot be solved simply by not voicing them; they can exist inwardly whether or not they are spoken or displayed. What then can possibly solve our crisis?

As with so many human nature problems, a solution must involve steps. In this situation, the steps for me have so far consisted of first establishing that my complaining is a problem and secondly, consciously making the decision to not complain aloud. I know I said earlier that simply keeping quiet doesn’t stop a complaint from forming inwardly, and while it is true that this alone can’t do the trick, it can play a major part in it. Once a complaint is voiced and others chime in in agreement, I find my complaint validated and it begins to encompass more than just one area of my life. Keeping my complaints to myself is one step in the direction of refocusing my mind on what there is to rejoice about in life.

Most importantly, though, as I’ve come to understand firsthand over the past few months, change of any kind cannot happen through my own power. This too is an area in my life in which I need to relinquish control to God, asking Him to change my perspective on the things in my life that I feel are cause for complaint.

So to the girl in the cafeteria whom I overheard saying sarcastically today, “I love how depressing this fall break is” (within the first hour of fall break, mind you), I pray that you will not spend the rest of your life making a rainy day a cause for despair. I pray that you will not allow complaining to be your makeshift solution for whatever bitterness you feel inside. I pray that you will turn that bitterness over to God and allow Him to show you the beauty in each day that some ignore. And maybe — just maybe — you can even come to find pleasure in the rainy weather.