Thankful When It Hurts

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”– 1 Thessalonians 5:18

As we enter this season of Thanksgiving, I, like many of you, find myself reflecting on what gratitude truly means—especially when your heart aches. Is it even possible to be thankful in the middle of deep grief? Can thankfulness and sorrow really coexist? For me, one of the ways God has led me through the grief of losing my son, Ryan, to suicide has been by gently shifting my focus from what isn’t to what is. When I focus on what isn’t—the reality that my precious son is no longer this side of heaven—I quickly spiral into despair. But when I fix my eyes on what is—on who God is and what He has done—I begin to see the ways He continues to lavish His faithful blessings upon me even in the midst of pain and loss. It doesn’t erase the ache. It doesn’t silence the longing.But it transforms my perspective.

Gratitude and Grief Can Coexist

That verse in 1 Thessalonians used to feel almost impossible to me. How could God ask me to give thanks in the very circumstances that shattered my heart? But as I’ve walked this road, I’ve come to see that giving thanks in all circumstances doesn’t mean we are thankful for the pain itself—it means we trust the One who is sovereign over it.

Gratitude and grief are not enemies; they can dwell together when our confidence rests not in our circumstances but in God’s unchanging character. When we choose to thank God even when it hurts, we are declaring—sometimes through tears—that He is still good, still faithful, still worthy of praise. We are acknowledging that His plans are higher than ours, that He is at work for our good and His glory, even when we can’t yet see how the pieces fit together.

Marking His Faithfulness

In the Old Testament, God’s people would set up Ebenezer stones—physical markers of God’s faithfulness—to remind themselves and future generations of what He had done. Each stone testified, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.” (1 Samuel 7:12). As I look back on my own journey through loss, I can see those same markers—moments where God carried me when I couldn’t stand, comforted me through His Word, surrounded me with the love of His people, and gave me glimpses of His purpose in the pain. Those memories have become my own Ebenezer stones, reminders that God has been faithful before and will remain faithful again. If we aren’t intentional to look for those evidences of His goodness, grief can blind us to them. But when we pause and remember—when we trace the fingerprints of His faithfulness—we begin to see how He has sustained us in every storm. One simple way to do this is by creating a Thankful Jar. Each day—if possible—take a moment to write down where you saw God show up, or one thing from that day that you’re thankful to Him for. It doesn’t have to be big. It might be a moment of peace, an encouraging word, a memory, or even the strength to take one more step. As days and weeks go by, that jar becomes your modern-day Ebenezer, a tangible reminder of God’s faithfulness in the midst of the storm. And if you find yourself struggling to see anything to write down, be honest with God. Bring that struggle to Him in prayer. Ask Him to open your eyes to see His hand at work—to notice His faithful blessings that are often hidden behind the clouds of grief. He delights in revealing Himself to hearts that seek Him, even (and especially) in pain.

The Gift of the Gospel

At the heart of true thankfulness—especially thankfulness in suffering—is the gospel.

The good news of Jesus Christ is not just a comfort; it is the foundation of our hope.

Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, this broken world is not the end of our story. Through faith in Him, our sins are forgiven, our hearts are redeemed, and our eternity is secured.

The gospel tells us that pain and death do not have the final word—Christ does.

It is the gospel that gives us the ability to say, even in the deepest sorrow, “Thank You, Lord.”

Thank You for Jesus, who bore our pain and conquered the grave.Thank You that Ryan’s story—and my story—are both held in the hands of a Savior who is making all things new.

Surrounded by the Body

We were never meant to carry our burdens alone. God, in His kindness, gives us the body of believers—the Church—to lift us up when we grow weary, to remind us of truth when our hearts are faint, and to point us back to Christ when grief clouds our vision.

For me, God used my Tribe—the faithful friends and family who surrounded me with prayer, presence, and love—to continually point me back to His truth. When I couldn’t see clearly through the pain, they gently reminded me of who God is and all that He has already done.

He also used my pastor to encourage me to keep “clinging and trusting”—simple yet powerful words that have become a steady refrain in my heart. I still remind myself of them often, especially when the road feels long and the weight of grief presses heavy.

If you are struggling to find thankfulness this season, let others come alongside you. Let them remind you of what is—of God’s presence, His promises, His unfailing love displayed through the cross.

Thankfulness and loss can coexist when our hope is rooted not in what we’ve lost, but in the One we can never lose.

A Closing Thought

As Thanksgiving approaches, may we be a people who, even through tears, lift our eyes above the pain and fix them on the Savior who holds every broken piece of our story. Let us be intentional to remember His goodness—to mark our own Ebenezer stones and fill our Thankful Jars with moments of His mercy and grace. Each note, each memory, each whisper of gratitude becomes a declaration that God has been faithful before and He will be faithful again. When we choose to give thanks in the hurt, we are proclaiming that Jesus is enough—that His presence is our portion, His promises our anchor, and His love our reason to keep giving thanks.

Because even when it hurts, He is worthy of our thanks.

A Prayer of Thanksgiving in the Pain

Father,Thank You for being near to the brokenhearted.Even in my sorrow, You are good. Even in my loss, You are faithful.Help me fix my eyes not on what I’ve lost, but on who You are—unchanging, sovereign, and full of compassion.Thank You for Jesus, whose death and resurrection give me hope beyond this world.Teach me to offer You a sacrifice of thanksgiving even through tears, trusting that You are working all things together for Your glory and my good.Surround me with Your people, Lord, that they might remind me of truth when I grow weary.May my life, my story, and even my suffering point others to the gospel of grace.In Jesus’ name,Amen.

Reflection Prompt

Before you close this page, take a few quiet moments to reflect:

• What Ebenezer stones of God’s faithfulness can you remember in your life?

• What is one thing—big or small—you can thank Him for today, even in the midst of your pain?

• How might your gratitude become a testimony that points others to Christ?