Day 25: You think you have problems?

I have noticed lately a phrase that has started cropping up in the written word and conversation: first world problems.
While it could get to be an overused and annoying phrase, I think it is worth examining.
Let's see. How about I gained ten pounds over the holidays and I can't seem to lose it.
First world problem.
Or My dishwasher broke and I don't have the money to fix it.
First world problem.
And I just can't find the perfect paint colour for my living room (fabric for my daughter's bedding, clock for my wall, dress for the prom, favours for my wedding reception).
First. World. Problem.

Just to be clear, I have friends that are dealing with terrible health issues or struggles like job loss, and I am not diminishing their plights at all. I am just attempting to put things into perspective.

Let me illustrate further, hoping that you will not hate me for my impatience with the attitude.

I have almost twenty-five darling piano students (ranging in age from 5 to 15) that visit me weekly. I am quietly amused by the trends that I observe as I interact with them every week. For a couple of years, every time they couldn't grasp a concept or a piece, they would claim (almost to a person) that it was "confusing". I finally lost patience with the word and pronounced a ban on using it, ever, during piano lessons.
This is not confusing, I would assert. It may be a little challenging, but all of the tools that you need are right on the page in front of your eyes. Or, if I suspected it to be the case, I would predict that the student had not given enough thought or practice time to the item in question. The response was inevitably a doleful look of accusation, and I am sure the student was wondering why this proclamation of "confusing" had not worked as an alibi, when it obviously worked so well everywhere else!

So "confusing" eventually became a non-issue in my music room.

This last week, apart from a couple of girls rolling their eyes at me, I have heard, twice, the announcement from piano students that something was "hard".
The second time, I snapped a little inside and I said No. Living in a shack in Haiti with a dirt floor and no blanket to sleep on and a tin roof that leaks water on you every time it rains and only eating once every two days is hard. 
This isn't hard. 
This is just a little challenging.
And, to their credit, the girls who were the recipients of this wee rant had the grace to look abashed and admit that it was true.

It's not the first time I have countered the word with the argument.
And it won't be the last.
So I apologize in advance for the next time.
And, just so you know, I have this conversation with myself all the time.
Oh, my arm (foot, hip, whatever) hurts so much today. 
You big baby, you. You could be living in Haiti in a shack.....

Today, I am so grateful for the circumstances of my life. There have been challenges, but nothing like those that are faced by so much of the world. I don't know why I am so lucky, whether it was chance or destiny or whether I earned it or was given it by grace. It is one of the mysteries of life.