There are muscles in the human body that weaken when they are not used. Doctors call it muscle atrophy. Strength that was once there begins to diminish simply because the muscle has not been exercised. I wonder if something similar can happen in our spirit, resulting in “gratitude atrophy.”
Gratitude is like a muscle of the spirit. It must be exercised regularly. If neglected, it weakens. We can become so accustomed to the goodness of God that we stop noticing it. Blessings that once overwhelmed us become ordinary. Things we once prayed for become things we now take for granted. Yesterday’s answer to prayer can easily become today’s expectation.
In some parts of the world, this time of year includes special days or traditions associated with thanksgiving. But for the people of God, thanksgiving has never belonged exclusively to a particular day, nation, or culture. Gratitude is woven throughout Scripture as a defining characteristic of those who recognize the goodness and faithfulness of God.
The psalmist wrote, “Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name” (Psalm 100:4).
Notice that thanksgiving is not merely something we feel. It is something we do. We give thanks. We bless His name. We remember. We testify.
Gratitude must be exercised. And when it is, something begins to happen within us.
Gratitude turns our eyes toward God. Life has a way of directing our attention toward what is wrong—the problem, the disappointment, the unanswered question, those things we wish were different. Gratitude changes our focus. It does not deny the problem. It simply refuses to allow the problems around us to become bigger than the God who is with us.
Gratitude also trains us to recognize what we might otherwise overlook. The great danger is not that God will stop blessing us. It is that we will stop noticing. Israel knew something about that. Think about manna. The first morning it appeared must have been incredible. They walked outside and discovered that God had provided breakfast overnight! What a miracle! But eventually, yesterday’s miracle became today’s menu—and they complained about it. Familiarity can make us forgetful.
Later, in Deuteronomy 8, Moses warned Israel about another danger. When they entered the Promised Land, ate until they were full, built houses, and prospered, they were to “beware that thou forget not the LORD” (v. 11).
Interestingly, Moses was not warning them that hardship might cause them to forget God. He warned them that blessings might. Sometimes abundance is a greater test of gratitude than adversity. Maybe that is why David had to remind himself, “Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits” (Psalm 103:2). Sometimes gratitude is simply refusing to forget.
The longer I live, the more convinced I am that some of life’s greatest blessings are the ones we are most tempted to call ordinary—those we love, daily provision, a church family, the beauty of God’s creation, breath in our lungs, another morning to experience the mercy of God. Ordinary? Maybe we have simply forgotten just how extraordinary “everyday blessings” really are.
Gratitude also pushes back against complaining and negativity. Complaining magnifies what is wrong. Gratitude magnifies the One who remains good. Biblical gratitude is not pretending everything is good. It is declaring that God is still good even when everything is not. Paul wrote, “In every thing give thanks” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Not for everything, but in everything.
Perhaps this is where gratitude becomes testimony. We sometimes sing, “Count your blessings, name them one by one.” There is some pretty good theology in that old song. But I would add something: Don’t just count your blessings. Share them. “Let the redeemed of the LORD say so” (Psalm 107:2). In other words . . . Testify!
“Give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever” (Psalm 107:1).
His goodness has not atrophied.
Neither should our gratitude.
