Every Sunday, she sits in the row just ahead of us, a solitary figure amidst the congregation. An elderly woman with an air of quiet grace, she is always impeccably dressed. Today, her choice is a black cardigan, its sleeves adorned with shimmering sequins. I look down at my sweatshirt and think about how I need to dress nicer for church.
My son reaches over, puts his hand on her shoulder, and tells her hello. She greets me warmly, as she always does. "He's such a sweet boy," she tells me, and she’s right. There’s kindness in her eyes, a depth that speaks of years lived.
When the music begins, she worships with her whole heart. Sometimes, tears fall down her cheeks. There’s a dignity about her, but more than anything, she radiates strength—the kind that comes from an unwavering trust in Christ. She is somebody’s grandmother, a beloved relative, a cherished friend.
I want to be strong like her. The kind of strength that isn’t just about endurance but about grace, resilience, and an unshakable faith. Maybe that strength is already in me, beginning to taking root. After all, I did single-handedly assemble a TV stand a few months ago with nothing but a screwdriver and sheer determination. That project tested my faith and patience in new ways.
When I look at her, I see a story, a lifetime woven into the lines on her face. She makes me look forward to the years ahead and faith that deepens with time. If growing older means becoming more like her, then I welcome it.
Life has surely taken her down winding roads, through seasons of joy and moments of heartbreak. Yet, whatever trials she has faced, whatever burdens she has borne, gratitude stays with her. She is a living testament to the beauty of a thankful heart.
You know, the greatest minds aren’t just deep thinkers—they’re grateful ones. Gratitude sharpens the soul, keeping it alive to the beauty of scripture and creation. I want to carry that same wide-eyed thankfulness well into my eighties, to remain fully awake to the miracles hidden in ordinary moments.
Remaining in a mindset of gratitude is no easy feat when the world around us seems determined to spotlight the worst of everything. Negativity echoes from every direction—headlines brimming with bad news, conversations laced with complaints, and the pull of comparison that tells us, you don’t have enough, you aren’t enough.
It takes effort, an intentional shifting of perspective, to hold onto gratitude when the weight of the world begs us to focus on what’s missing, broken, or uncertain. But choosing to see the good—to recognize the hand of God—is what keeps our hearts light, our faith strong, and our joy unshaken.
Here's a few things to keep in mind to remain in a mindset of gratitude:
1. Look for God every day. We cannot be grateful for what we cannot see.
Imagine stepping into Job’s life—a life of abundance, prosperity, and unwavering faith. Everything is falling into place. His fields are flourishing, his livestock multiplying, his home filled with the laughter of children. He is a man of great wealth, but more importantly, a man of deep gratitude and steadfast devotion to God. Despite his success, he remains humble, always acknowledging that his blessings come from above.
And then—disaster strikes.
Not gradually, not over the course of years, but in mere days, everything crumbles. His vast wealth vanishes as raiders plunder his livestock and servants. His home, once a place of joy, becomes a place of mourning as a fierce wind collapses the house where all his children had gathered, taking their lives in an instant. As if that weren’t enough, his own body betrays him—painful, oozing sores cover him from head to toe, leaving him in unbearable agony.
This wasn’t mere misfortune. It was a full-scale attack, orchestrated by his enemy—Satan himself. (A sobering lesson for us, too: when trials seem to pile up all at once, we must recognize the unseen battle at play.)
Yet, through it all, Job does not waver. Grief-stricken but resolute, he refuses to curse God. Instead, he clings to the truth: his enemy may be relentless, but he is already defeated. Job lifts his eyes to the heavens, not with bitterness, but with faith—because he knows the Author of his story has not abandoned him.
"I know that my Redeemer lives,
and that in the end he will stand on the earth.
And after my skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God;
I myself will see him
with my own eyes—I, and not another.
How my heart yearns within me!" (Job 19:25-27, NIV)
Even as his world fell apart, as his body ached and his friends misunderstood him, Job clung to the certainty of who he was—a man of faith—and, more importantly, who his God was—a just and sovereign King. He did not allow his pain to cloud his vision. With every agonizing moment, with every unanswered question, Job continued to search for God, reaching out through the darkness, knowing that somewhere beyond his suffering, God was still there.
In order to remain grateful, we must first look for our Redeemer. We cannot be thankful for what we do not see. Job's gratitude was not dependent on his circumstances but on God’s goodness. Even in the midst of pain, he searched for the Lord, and in the end, he found that God had never left him. True gratitude is born from this kind of vision—not just seeing God in the blessings, but also in the trials, knowing that He is always near.
2. Make time for gratitude.
Isn’t it true that all our hurrying only leaves us feeling worn and weary? We rush through the days, racing to keep up, trying to outrun the clock, only to find that time isn’t what we’re losing. We’re losing ourselves.
Slowing down never killed time. It’s the frantic pace, the endless striving, that steals it from us. In the whirlwind of responsibilities and distractions, gratitude must become a priority—not an afterthought, but a steady companion. Gratitude steps into the chaos, places a gentle hand on our shoulder, and whispers, Pause. Look around. Remember what matters. Gratitude doesn’t demand time; it gives it back—turning ordinary moments into something sacred.
Making time for gratitude isn’t just beneficial for us—it matters deeply to God. So much so that He highlights it in Scripture, showing us that thankfulness is more than a polite response; it’s a reflection of our hearts.
Now, imagine stepping into the past, standing along the rugged border between Samaria and Galilee. Tensions run high between Jews and Samaritans—two groups who would normally avoid each other at all costs. But suffering has a way of dissolving boundaries, and here, on the outskirts of society, ten lepers stand together, united by their affliction.
From a distance, they cry out to Jesus, desperate for healing, their voices raw with hope and longing. In response, Jesus doesn’t touch them or immediately cleanse them—instead, He gives them a command: “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” It’s a test of faith, a step of obedience before the miracle arrives. And so, they turn and walk away, their hearts pounding with uncertainty.
Then, as they take each step forward, something incredible happens. Their skin begins to clear. The pain fades. Fingers once lost to disease are whole again. Their healing unfolds before their eyes—not in an instant, but as they move in faith.
But only one of the ten, a Samaritan, stopped, turned back, and fell at Jesus' feet, praising God and thanking Him.
Jesus responded:
“Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” (Luke 17:17-18, NIV).
Then He told the man, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”
The fact that the one who returned to give thanks was a Samaritan makes the story even more powerful. While the Jewish lepers may have gone to fulfill their religious duty by showing themselves to the priests, the Samaritan—a foreigner, an outsider—recognized something greater. He didn’t just seek cleansing; he sought the Healer. His gratitude brought him back to Jesus, where he received not just physical healing, but something even deeper—spiritual wholeness.
Gratitude doesn’t happen by accident. It’s a deliberate choice. Life rushes forward, pulling us from one moment to the next, and it’s all too easy to accept blessings without pausing to acknowledge them. But true gratitude requires intentionality, a slowing down to recognize the hand of God in our lives.
Like the one leper who turned back while the others hurried on, choosing gratitude redirects our hearts. It shifts our focus from what we’ve received to who gave it. It keeps us anchored in God’s presence, sharpening our vision so we don’t just pass through life—we truly see His goodness woven into every moment.
Looking for more info on gratitude? Here's a link to my free practical application worksheet.
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