The Gift of a Thankful Spirit
Well now, I do declare, friend, come on over here and settle yourself in on this ol’ front porch like you’re plum easin’ into a cozy refuge where the boards give a friendly creak and the smell of fig preserves driftin’ from the kitchen comes rollin’ out like it has been huntin’ you down since the early mornin’ rooster‑crow. Land sakes, It’s so doggone good to have you stoppin’ over for a lil’ ol’ visit. If you were any more welcome, that plump ol’ Banty rooster that patrols the porch like he’s inspectin’ for trespassers would hop right over and offer you the brightest of all the bottle caps he’s been collectin’ from every corner of the property. So, pull up a real comfy chair, friend, because we’re about to amble right on into a truth sturdier than a hickory plank cured in July heat.
Jesus sat at the Passover table knowin’ full well what was comin’, and Scripture says, “He took the cup, and gave thanks” (Matthew 26:27). Now that right there’s really somethin’. He was thankin’ God for a moment that’d cost Him His life. That there’s the kind of gratitude that makes you blink twice and whisper, “Lord, help me learn from that.”
Paul wrote “In everything give thanks” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Not in the easy things. Not in the pretty things. But in everything. And the Lord deepens this truth with another verse, “Offer to God thanksgiving, and pay your vows to the Most High” (Psalm 50:14). Gratitude ain’t just a feeling. It’s an offering. It’s obedience. It’s trust.
Sometimes thankfulness feels as hard as tryin’ to convince a stubborn ol’ mule that the barn door ain’t dangerous. But when we start thankin’ God in the places where we least feel like it, somethin’ plum shifts. Our hearts git to softenin’. Our worries start loosenin’. Our prayers git plum perfumed with praise instead of panic.
Father, thank You for teachin’ me to give thanks in every season. Help me trust Your goodness when life feels heavy and Your wisdom when life feels confusing. Shape my heart to praise You first. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Well, my stars, friend, may the Lord plum fill your day with the steady calm of a big ol’ bullfrog sittin’ on a lily pad like he sho’-nuff’ owns the whole pond. Let His peace settle over you like the quiet that drifts through a forest when the breeze finally decides to rest for a while. And may His joy rise up in you with the bright shimmer of a lil’ ol’ hummingbird catchin’ its first sip of nectar. Wherever your day carries you, you’ve gotta let His goodness guide your steps like a faithful ol’ donkey headin’ home at twilight knowin’ exactly where it belongs. Go on now, friend, and give thanks in just the way He taught you to give it.
With joy,
Gwen
