Are you unhappy? Do you rarely experience joy? Is it hard to be content? Do you find yourself depressed?
If so, you may find at the core of your problem, a lack of gratitude. We live in America, a country that can be described as the most blessed and most depressed.[1] The combination of adaptation and envy has turned toxic. We’ve adapted to the great blessings – freedom, affluence, safety, leisure – and now they are expected rather than a recognized blessing that points us in gratitude to our Blessor. Comparison further fuels envy leaving us without joy. As fallen people, we develop self-focused wants and desires, which lead to expectations, which leads to disappointment, which leads to ingratitude and complaint. “Complaint is really an identity issue. If you have placed yourself in the center of your world, if you have reduced your active field of concern down to the small confines of your wants, your needs, and your feelings, if it is really is all about you, then you will live with an entitled, “I deserve ____” attitude, and because you do you will have constant reason to complain. You will be constantly focused on what you want, you will have an inflated sense of what you need, and you will be all too conscious of how you feel, so you will grumble your way through life. Why? You will grumble because the reality is that you are not the center, life is not about you. The universe doesn’t operate to satisfy your desires. It is a dark and discouraging way to live. But if you humbly admit that as a sinner you deserve nothing but God’s wrath, that in acts of outrageous grace he has turned his face of mercy and kindness toward you, and that every good thing in your life is an undeserved blessing you will find reasons to be grateful everywhere you look. Feelings of need and thankfulness rather than entitlement and disappointment will fill your heart.” (New Morning Mercies, July 22, Paul David Trip). Gratitude isn’t just an affirmative statement but it a way of living. Reading a book about gratitude won’t fix you. Rather gratitude is a habit, a way of living that must be cultivated, and a muscle that must be stretched and worked over time before it can become big and strong. Practicing gratitude is God’s practical mechanism to help restore our joy and snap us out of our self-focus. It’s part of God’s sanctifying process in our lives. Psalms is full of it: “Give thanks…”. Paul had it: “I thank God for….” which is found in Ephesians, Philippians, Corinthians, Timothy, Romans, and more. As Paul wrote “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Phil 4:13) it was not optimistic self-talk for him to achieve some personal goal, rather it was in the context of the verses before. “But I *rejoiced* in the Lord greatly, that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned before, but you lacked opportunity. Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be *content* in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.” As Paul wrote this he had no freedom, no affluence, no safety, and no leisure. His other-worldly joy came as he was in jail, restrained, and awaiting death. How did he do this? The joy came “through Christ” who gave him the strength. This other-worldly joy and be ours too. Start exercising your gratitude muscles and get big.
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11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger
one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. 13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything. 17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. 21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. In keeping with this season leading up to Thanksgiving, this devo is about a passage of scripture that cultivates thankfulness in my heart and how it ministers to me. No doubt, many of you have heard this parable before, but as someone who struggles with approval, pride, and entitlement, this passage continues to be one of the most powerful scriptures for me. In this parable, God represents the father, and the son represents people who have rebelled and strayed away from God. I think we can all relate to the prodigal son. I grew up in a Christian home, and was raised in a Bible church. At about 5 years old, prompted by my mom, I accepted Christ as my savior. My faith was real, but very immature. Unfortunately, no one really discipled me growing up and I had a very limited understanding of what being a Christian really meant. To me, being a Christian meant following rules and doing good things, like volunteering. My relationship with God was very shallow, and entering my high school years I began avoiding going to church. I would tell my parents I was going to a different church, then drive around town for a while before coming back home. As I entered college, I quit going to church and reading my Bible completely. In my mind, like the prodigal son, I felt as if God was an insurance plan, a plan B to fall back on if things went bad. It was nice to know I was going to heaven when I died, but other than that God was pretty boring and Christians were lame. I thought that if I obeyed God in the “basic things” and didn’t go too crazy, I would be alright. In college, I tried to fit in with my friends, drinking and partying. I longed to fit into the worldly way of living and be accepted, yet in my heart the Holy Spirit was convicting me and I knew it was wrong, so I held back from doing anything “too bad.” I might party and get drunk, but I would not do drugs. I might cuss and demean people, but I would not tell dirty jokes. I might push boundaries with girls and we might feel each other up, but I would not go all the way, yet I would indulge in hours of pornography in my dorm room It was a strange, self-determined line of what was acceptable and what was not. But in God’s eyes, all sin is unacceptable. Inside, I was in turmoil and filled with anxiety and depression, as I lived with one foot as a “Christian” and one foot in the world. Uncommitted, I was unable to enjoy either. Also, even though I wouldn’t admit it, sin is sin in God’s eyes, and I was not someone who was struggling with sin, I was someone who was living in it unapologetically. In my mind, God was always a very distant father figure who was vaguely ticked off at me all the time. “There he goes again, what a screw up!” I could see God saying as I messed up, or maybe he would be shaking his head with his lip curled in disgust, muttering “he really is useless.” Contrast my own image with the picture we find in this parable. The sheer mercy and grace of this image is so powerful to me. When I came to Christ years later, the fact that God could love and forgive someone who was as cold, sinful, perverted, cowardly as me, was mind blowing. As I have said before, the image of a father seeing his son returning on the road home and, throwing aside all pretenses of pride, dignity, or judgement against his son, running out to meet him and throwing his arms around him, is so powerful. I am a very prideful person, I love to feel as if I earned everything I have, and I love to punish myself for my failures and withhold from myself anything I feel I do not deserve. Growing up, my father was a very loving man, though he was also a very quiet man. Even so, he would always be sure to tell me that he loved me and was proud of me, since his dad never did. The crazy thing is, though, that oftentimes I viewed myself as a failure and would feel angry at him for giving me affirmation I felt I hadn’t earned. I didn’t understand that he loved me for the simple fact that I was his son, and that it wasn’t because I played soccer, was a marathoner, or was in ROTC, or landed a job, or anything else. Likewise, it is hard for me to accept God’s unconditional, unmerited love that he pours on me. I can very easily see myself in the prodigal son’s shoes, trying to protect what shreds of pride I have left by proclaiming “Father…I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Don’t look at me, just yell at me, disown me, punish me, just let me work as one of your hired hands.” But the father doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. He is too overcome with joy that his son has returned. To make his son work as a hired hand is ridiculous, he loves his son too much. He doesn't give his son what he deserves, but gives him unconditional, unmerited love and mercy. In fact, he throws a new robe on him and throws a party. This unconditional love blows my mind, liberates me, and fills me with gratitude. It takes a huge burden off my back and humbles me. It says earlier in this same chapter, in Luke 15:7, “I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” I used to think that this was meant figuratively or something. How could God delight in a sinner more than 99 good people? But now I believe it is literal. A repentant sinner has humbled himself and admitted that he needs God, and surrenders his life to God. Contrast that with 99 righteous persons who do not need to repent, or self-righteous people who don’t THINK they need to repent…in the gospels Jesus often condemned the pharisees who were prideful and self-righteous. As it says in Luke 18: “To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ 13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ 14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” God delights in being glorified, he delights in showing his power, and God’s power is never more evident than in his ability to redeem a wretched, broken sinner and transform their life, give them a new identity, and conquer death and sin. That makes me thankful, that God and heaven rejoice in saving a wretch like me, that they delight in this saving work and welcome me with open arms. |
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