Authors: Margaret Feinberg
During this time, Karen sensed God saying,
I had to meet David at the end of a runway. Though you may not understand, that’s where it had to be for David and me. Know that I’ve got him
.
“I am overwhelmed with joy and peace,” Karen continued. “Joy because I know David no longer wrestles with the dark struggles of this world; peace because I know whose hands hold him.”
Karen explained that she prayed for her husband’s salvation since they first met. “I know David is with God,” she said, beaming with gratitude, “even if it had to come at the end of a runway.”
Despite the medical complications, the innumerable bills, the deep grieving, Karen said the penetrating shroud of peace has not left her. The Holy Spirit continues to affirm,
I’ve got you. I’m carrying you
.
She said that when the pressure of medical bills became more than she could bear, an unmarked envelope with money arrived in the mail. Several coworkers raised a thousand dollars by selling cookbooks. A person at church felt compelled to give Karen a check—unknowingly for the exact amount of an unexpected medical bill.
Miracles weren’t solely found in provision but also in the transformation in other people’s lives. One friend felt so compelled to support Karen, she organized her own fundraiser and partnered with a local church. In the process, the friend’s faith grew to the point where she became a follower of Jesus.
Yet Karen seemed most grateful for her ability to return to work. A licensed lactation consultant, she teaches newborns with eating problems to attach to their mothers. A woman who experienced loss in her life spends her days helping others lay hold of life.
“I see my job as a gift,” Karen said. “I want to make a difference. Having a job where I witness the miracle of life each day is one of the things that keeps me going.”
“After all you’ve been through, you’re
still
thankful?” I asked.
“I know I’ve lost a leg,” Karen answered. “But even in this I’m grateful. I’ve gained a freedom I’ve never had before. I was a fearful child, and now the fear is gone. I see my fearlessness rubbing off on people.”
“How do you do it?”
“People say I’m a strong woman, but I’m not. Stubborn maybe, but not strong. When you have nothing, you finally have both hands free to hold on to God.”
Karen’s story left me speechless, taken aback by her composure and rootedness. Her sense of thankfulness in the midst of so much loss left me wonderstruck. She displayed the wonder of gratitude in regal form.
Her words reminded me of the apostle Paul’s. Writing to the church in Thessalonica, he instructs them to express gratitude at all times. Paul writes, “Rejoice always; pray without ceasing;
in everything give thanks;
for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
1
The mark of a Christian who strives for a vibrant relationship with God is joy, prayer, and gratitude. These are not one-time offerings but perpetual and ongoing expressions—for every situation, in all circumstances—rooted in the will of God and given as gifts by God.
Paul never suggests that believers deny the grief or pain that adversity brings but rather that they recognize, even in the midst of hardship, God’s spirit infusing them with joy. Such mirth can’t be self-produced; it is a gift of God and evidence of the Spirit.
2
This unexplainable joy is one of the hallmarks of those who follow Christ, setting them apart from many religions, both ancient and modern.
Paul’s second instruction is to pray continually. Prayer isn’t limited to a particular time of day or formality but is designed to be accessible and constant. Calling on God is designed for both grave and grandiose occasions—an expression meant to become as natural as breathing. Paul prayed for those in Thessalonica regularly and asked them to keep him in their prayers, confident that such a life of prayer shifts perspective from
inward to outward, from our own concerns to the needs of others. Constant prayer also expresses our ongoing dependence on God. When woven with happy wonderment, prayer becomes an opportunity to rejoice through adoration and worship.
His final exhortation is to give thanks in all circumstances. Scripture doesn’t explicitly say who is to be given thanks, but it’s understood as being given to God. Unlike the previous exhortations to practice “always” and “without ceasing,” Paul assigns gratitude in “every circumstance,” even those that seem undeserving of thanks. In other words, the focus isn’t on expressing gratitude every moment but in the midst of every situation—despite the ease or difficulty of the circumstances.
3
Gratitude doesn’t curry favor with God as it does in other pagan religions. Rather than try to gain status through verbal offerings, gratitude invites us to trust God in all things. Thankfulness is the acknowledgment that God can redeem every situation and make us more than triumphant in any circumstance.
4
Whether we’re facing a season of absence or abundance, barrenness or bounty, turmoil or tranquility, the command to give thanks remains. To the outsider, such an act is undeserved; but for those who place their faith in God, thankfulness is a powerful confession that God’s purpose is being worked out in all things.
The history of the region around Thessalonica reveals even more of the potency of Paul’s exhortation. One night while staying in the port city of Troas, Paul receives a vision in which a
man from Macedonia summons him, saying, “Come . . . and help us.”
5
In response, Paul joins a group to cross the Aegean Sea and share the gospel throughout the region. The team makes their way through Amphipolis and Apollonia to the coastal city of Thessalonica, known for its strategic location and natural resources. The surrounding mountains offered timber for development, a nearby plain provided fertile soil for agriculture; the land proffered wealth through precious metals—the gold, the silver, the iron, the lead. When the Roman soldiers overtook the region, including Thessalonica, they stripped the people and the territory of everything valuable. The booty was so great the Thessalonians were excused from direct taxation for the next hundred years.
6
After pillaging resources, Rome established a series of economic measures—including prohibiting trade between districts in the region—that impoverished the people. When these laws eventually relaxed, the economic situation in Thessalonica improved. Jobs were created; the majority of the population found work. But some never recovered. One anthology recounts the story of Aristides, a poor man who tallied his great wealth. He called his single sheep a flock, his only cow a herd. Then a wolf killed the sheep and the cow died giving birth. Soon after, he took his life.
7
The story illustrates the dire financial situation some were facing when Paul penned his letter to the church at Thessalonica—a situation not too different from today. Many found
work and financial stability; others struggled to survive. Paul encourages the people in the church to look beyond socioeconomic differences and display love to one another.
When Paul commands the Thessalonians to give thanks in all circumstances, he knows the historical baggage they carry. During his previous visit, he undoubtedly saw the disparity of wealth, the injustices of the authorities, the pangs of poverty, yet he still instructs them to express gratitude.
Maybe because he, too, learned the importance of giving thanks in all circumstances.
The book of Acts unveils some details of Paul’s journeys. Shortly after receiving the vision that Paul should come to Macedonia, Paul and Silas are stalked by a slave girl who has a spirit of divination. Annoyed by the girl’s proclamations, Paul commands the spirit to leave her. The girl’s owners discover she can no longer practice fortune-telling. They falsely accuse Paul and Silas of civil disturbance then beat them bloody.
Paul and his companion are thrown into prison. An earthquake opens the doors of the prison. Soon after, the prison guard becomes a follower of Jesus. Paul and Silas are then freed to continue their journey. When they arrive in Thessalonica, Paul finds a synagogue where he explains the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ to the locals. While some believe—including God-fearing Greeks and women—the Jews form a mob, setting the city into an uproar. Paul and his fellow travelers are forced to leave the city, but adversity continues to follow wherever he goes.
Over the course of his life, Paul is tossed into prison and brutally beaten on multiple occasions, shipwrecked, and nearly drowned. Falsely accused, surrounded by thieves, his life is marked by affliction and controversy, his body shaped by exhaustion, thirst, and hunger. Yet even in the midst of life’s heaviest blows, he still says give thanks. If Paul lived a safe, comfortable life, his words could easily be dismissed. But Paul embodied his message.
Paul doesn’t just say give thanks, but give thanks
in all circumstances
, in everything. The wonder arises when we express gratitude in situations that appear to deserve none. When Paul and Silas find themselves in prison, instead of sighing, they sing.
8
This is where the message is difficult to swallow. Paul doesn’t say give thanks in some things or good things but in everything—even when it seems impossible.
I’m often grateful for the good, but the wonder comes when we thank God in the midst of the bad. Paul doesn’t say give thanks
for
everything but
in
everything. That’s what Karen learned to do. She didn’t thank God
for
the plane crash but
in
the midst of the aftermath. The wonder of gratitude isn’t found in saying thanks for
good
things but in
all
things—including the bad.
Leaving the coffee shop that day, I marveled at Karen’s story. In the past, I’d met people who masquerade as sanguine, but just below the surface, they lived in unspeakable pain. Karen was the
opposite. Though the chronic pain was palpable, just below the surface, she radiated joy.
“Though giving thanks in everything seems like an insurmountable task, God equips us if we allow him,” she told me, her words echoing in my mind. “It’s a gift we receive through his grace and supernatural power.”
Something about Karen’s story haunted me—in a good way. Like the enjoyment that comes from sitting under a tree on a sunny day, Karen’s abounding gratitude shaded my perspective in the most unexpected way. That evening I could still see the glimmer in Karen’s eyes whenever I closed mine for a moment. Sitting on the couch in the silence, I flipped open my Bible to Psalm 13, which begins with an unflinching address of God: “How long, O L
ORD
? Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart all the day? How long will my enemy be exalted over me?”
9
The psalmist uses the timeless cry of humanity,
How long?
to summon God. After rousing God through complaint, the indictment shifts to a petition: “Consider and answer me, O L
ORD
my God; enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death, and my enemy will say, ‘I have overcome him.’ And my adversaries will rejoice when I am shaken.”
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A confession of pain is followed by a request for God to act. Listen. Speak. Vindicate. Rescue. Sustain. Protect. All these are hinted at in the psalmist’s petition for God’s intervention,
namely, that the Lord will bring deliverance. Without God, all hope is lost.
Then, with the ever-powerful word
but
, the psalmist makes a startling sharp turn toward praise and thanksgiving. “But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness; my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the L
ORD
, because He has dealt bountifully with me.”
11
Confidence in God replaces complaint, which leads to rejoicing. The cornerstone of the psalmist’s refrain is found in the loving-kindness of God. Fresh gratitude is found in God’s goodness and never-ending love. Six short verses are all that’s needed to transport the psalmist from the bowels of despair to the peaks of praise. That’s the beauty of gratitude: it invites us to a shift in our relationship with God and others. We’re invited to journey from loss to trust, from pain to praise.