Years ago, on a day that was completely ordinary, I was apparently wearing my feelings all over my face.
I don’t remember what was wrong. I don’t remember what had happened that morning or why I was in such a bad mood. I just remember that I was sour-faced enough for another woman to notice.
She said something to me that day that I have never forgotten. She told me, “If you start your day being grateful and you stay that way, you can’t stay in a bad mood. God and the devil can’t live in the same place.”
Now, I’m pretty sure my attitude did not magically change right then and there. I probably remained at least a little sour-faced. Growth is a process.
But she made me think.
And I kept thinking about what she said long after I had forgotten whatever had put me in that mood in the first place.
Light and darkness cannot occupy the same space.
Over the years, I’ve learned that gratitude doesn’t mean everything in my life is good. It doesn’t mean I don’t hurt. It doesn’t mean I don’t get angry, frustrated, scared, tired, or overwhelmed. Gratitude is looking at my life exactly as it is and remembering that God is still good.
So now, I try to begin my mornings with gratitude. I look at my children, and I thank God. I thank Him for the child we didn’t get to keep—the precious life that changed mine forever. I thank Him for the two children He has given us to raise, who have brought more love, laughter, chaos, and purpose into our lives than I ever could have imagined. I thank Him for my husband, the man He gave me to walk through this life with and who helped bring those beautiful children into the world.
Is our life perfect? Absolutely not. But there is always something to be thankful for.
Recently, I had to remind myself of that in a different way. There was a situation involving one of my children where Mama Bear had to show up. I needed to advocate. I needed to use my voice. And yes, I may have had to get a little loud.
But even in the middle of that, there was gratitude.
I could thank God for the people He has placed around my children—the teachers and others who spend their days teaching them, caring for them, and pouring into their lives.
I could also thank Him that when something wasn’t right, He gave me a voice. He gave me children worth fighting for. He gave me a heart that loves them fiercely. And He gives me wisdom to know when I need to speak.
Gratitude didn’t mean I had to pretend the situation wasn’t difficult. It helped me remember who I wanted to be while I walked through it.
That is something I think we sometimes misunderstand about gratitude. Being thankful doesn’t mean being happy about everything. Scripture tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 to “give thanks in all circumstances.”
It doesn’t say every circumstance will be good.
It doesn’t say every circumstance will feel good.
It says that in them, we can still give thanks.
And maybe you need that reminder as we head into the holidays. Maybe this year doesn’t look anything like you thought it would. Maybe there will be an empty chair at your table. Maybe someone you love is missing, and no amount of turkey, Christmas music, or holiday cheer is going to make that absence disappear.
Or maybe everybody will be there—but there is someone you’re not exactly looking forward to sitting beside. Maybe money is tight. Maybe your family is struggling. Maybe you’re waiting on an answer to a prayer that seems to be taking forever. Maybe you’re carrying something nobody else at the table even knows about.
There are a multitude of reasons the holidays can be hard.
And gratitude does not require you to pretend they aren’t. But even when we struggle to make a list of things we’re thankful for, there is still One.
God.
The God of the full table is also the God of the empty chair.
The God of the answered prayer is still God while we’re waiting.
The God of the mountaintop is still God in the valley.
The God of the beautiful, picture-perfect holiday is the same God sitting beside us when Thanksgiving requires prayer, patience, grace—and possibly some strategic seating arrangements.
Life doesn’t have to be perfect for God to be good. Maybe that’s what that woman was trying to teach my sour-faced younger self all those years ago. I don’t remember what I was upset about that day. Isn’t that funny? Whatever seemed important enough to ruin my mood has completely disappeared from my memory.
But I remember her words.
And years later, I still wake up and try to choose gratitude first. Not because every day is good. Not because everything in my life has turned out the way I wanted. Not because there aren’t still days when Mama Bear shows up, grief pulls up a chair, bills pile up, people get on my nerves, or life simply hurts.
I choose gratitude because before any of those things get a vote in how I see my day, I want God to speak first.
So this November, whatever your table looks like and whatever you’re carrying when you sit down at it, look for the light.
Find one thing.
Whisper one thank-you.
And if you can’t think of anything else, start with the One who has been there through every circumstance:
Thank You, God.
Sometimes that’s enough to turn on the light.
We would like to thank Randi Cason for writing this blog.
