Gratitude is Transformative
Thankfulness as the Antidote to Despair
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.—2 Corinthians 4:8
About a year ago, I had a surprising visit to my cardiologist. I’ve had heart failure caused by a virus since I was 24 years old, so I’ve been visiting heart docs for the last 26 years. Most of those visits have been checkups, making sure things were trending in right direction, and that sort of thing. But a year ago things went a bit differently. I had been experiencing chest pains and panic attacks and was concerned. As I visited with my cardiologist, it became apparent that my job—pastoring—was hurting my body’s ability to deal with my heart failure.
I was getting worse, not better. And I was actively shortening my lifespan.
At one point during the visit, my cardiologist said something like: “You need to make a decision. Your job or your family?”
I obviously knew I would choose my family. That was never in question.
I also knew that what we had been experiencing at our church was special. For several years we had seen things transpire that I can only attribute to the power of God: a resurgence of prayer, physical healing, marriages restored, addictions overcome, growing attendance, true presence in the community through service, and a swell of baptisms. I loved my church, the people in it, and what the Spirit was doing.
And just like that—in one doctor’s visit—it ended.
My church loved us well as I shared the news. The LORD graciously provided another opportunity teaching at Truett Seminary. Our leadership handled the transition with as much grace and love as any church could possibly do. The staff I had helped build and grown to love so deeply continued ministering. And God continued (and continues) to do incredible things at that church. (Almost like I wasn’t the One making it happen.)
Nevertheless, I spent the next several months grieving. If I’m honest with myself, I probably still am. What can I say? I did something I loved for thirty years and it ended abruptly. I miss leading the Supper. And shepherding our church. I can’t yet fully grasp a Christmas Eve without leading Christmas Eve services.
The grief is not as strong today, but it still lingers.
And yet. I am not sad today.
Yes, the grief persists. Some days a whisper. Some days a deafening beat.
But I am not sad because I am thankful.
I am thankful because tonight both of my sons will be under our (new) roof and we will share a dinner of stuffed baked potatoes together. We will play cards and tell stories and laugh. We will watch movies and stay up too late and probably break out the ice cream.
I am thankful because tomorrow I will gather in my brother’s house with family and feel the sort of love that you can only feel when you are with the people who have known you your entire life. And because there will be pie.
I am thankful that I was given thirty years to serve in local congregations as a pastor, to see people discover the wondrous love of Jesus, to baptize, to counsel, to serve, and to join in the glorious work of Jesus building his church. I am especially thankful for the people of Houston Northwest Church, her amazing staff, and the great honor to pastor her.
I am thankful that I was given an opportunity to continue to participate in that work by training the next generation of pastors and church leaders. (I wish you could sit in class with me. My students are incredible, and they encourage me about the future of the church. They make me want to be a better teacher.)
I am thankful that I had a doctor kind enough to tell me the truth and to help me have the courage to do something that extended my life. I haven’t had a chest pain since stepping down.
I am thankful that I am part of a church family in Waco who has loved and accepted us as I feel my way through the dark corridors of transition. First Baptist Church of Waco is very different from Houston Northwest in many ways, but in the most important ways, they are cut from the same cloth. I am particularly thankful to have pastors who have been so kind to us.
I am thankful for so many friends who love us so well. Their contributions are far too numerous to list here, but they have carried us at times over the years when we could not carry ourselves.
I could keep going. For a very long time.
I’m sure you could, too.
I imagine that you, like me, have some things you are grieving today. You may have lost a loved one this year. You may be battling a terrible diagnosis. You may be walking through a divorce or the loss of a friendship. You may be struggling at work or may be walking through depression.
Or maybe your grief is larger. Perhaps you are looking at the state of the world and wondering if there is a future for humanity in the midst of such strife. War consumes our planet. Politicians seem to care about little besides gaining wealth and protecting their own power. The most evil among us seem to walk free and justice seems elusive.
If our only companion was grief, we could not help but despair.
But we have gratitude.
Gratitude is not a tool used to say that what we grieve is not real. In fact, gratitude is something far more powerful. It says, “Even in the midst of these terrible things, I have received deep blessing.” Gratitude is the acknowledgement that no matter how terrible our circumstances might be, we receive great gifts.
This, of course, is the gospel. No matter how bad things might look, God refuses to abandon us to our circumstances. Instead, he breaks into the world, into our lives. He is, after all, Immanuel—God with us—the God who both wants to be with us and to lavish us with grace, even when groaning creation and our enemy seems determined to break us and our spirits.
That’s the thing about gratitude in the Christian faith. Thankfulness is not simply a listing of blessings or attempting to have a better attitude. Instead, it is the practice of noticing the gifts in our lives and then giving thanks to the One who gives them.
I think this is why Paul said, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)
Christian gratitude says, “Yes, there are many things wrong in my life and in the world. But I must also admit: I have many blessings in my life, and these are not mere accidents. They were given to me by God, and I want to acknowledge His work in my life.”
Thanksgiving is not simply counting our blessings. Thanksgiving is telling the Giver of Blessings, “Thank you.”
When we are grateful like that, we may still feel grief.
But we will not despair.
For we know that he continues to lavish us with gifts every single day.
And who could despair when there is a God like that?


Beautiful.
Miss you too and am thankful for your leadership and love. Thankful for your new opportunities and better health.
Love to The Bez and family.
Thanks so much for sharing the details of your journey, Steve.