A Thanksgiving That Actually Lasts
Thanksgiving is supposed to be a day when we stop and admit something we usually avoid: the best things in life aren’t things we made for ourselves. They’re given. We didn’t invent love. We didn’t manufacture the people who care about us. We didn’t earn the food on our table as much as we like to pretend. Even our breath is borrowed.
Most people feel some gratitude today. Gratitude journals are encouraged to help get you out of your own head. But gratitude always has a Giver. It’s not just a warm feeling—it’s meant for Someone. Christians are clear about this: every good gift comes from Christ. Not from luck, not from the universe, not from our own cleverness. Not the generic idea of “blessings,” but a real Giver—a LORD who became human, walked among us, suffered, died, and rose so that every good thing, from daily bread to eternal hope, is rooted in something solid. From Christ, who stepped into our world, took on our mess, and gave more than we could ever gather on our own.
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17). Even if you’re unsure what to make of all this yet, you can see the outline of it. Gifts come from a Giver. And the good in your life points beyond you. Gratitude is healthiest when it’s grounded in reality, not vague sentiment.
But here’s the thing: we’re forgetful. We enjoy the gifts and ignore the Giver. We assume health until it fails. We assume community until we feel alone. We assume peace until conflict arises. The uncomfortable truth is that we aren’t as self-sufficient as we want to believe. We burn ourselves out pretending to be self-made. Then, when life shakes us to the core—from illness, loss, loneliness—we realize how fragile that illusion really is.
Christ doesn’t leave us there. He doesn’t just hand out vague blessings and disappear. He plants His gifts in a real place: His church. That’s where He forgives, restores, and feeds people. That’s where He speaks words that actually hold up under the weight of real life. That’s where He gives His own body and blood for sinners who are tired of trying to save themselves.
Because if the greatest gifts in life are given, not earned, then you don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to manufacture meaning. You don’t have to chase fulfillment like it’s a moving target. Christ gives freely. He always has. He gives daily provision, forgiveness for our failures, hope that outlasts the grave, and the stubborn promise that your life has value because He says so. You can receive what is placed into your hands with humility and joy.
If you’re feeling thankful today, that’s great. But don’t let it stay at just surface level. Follow that gratitude back to its Giver. And if you’re not feeling thankful—if this year has knocked you down—don’t think Christ has nothing for you. He gives exactly to the empty, the worn-out, and the weak. Christ has not forgotten you. He gives relief even to the weary, the hurting, and the uncertain. Sometimes the most important gift is simply knowing you’re not abandoned.
So, this Thanksgiving, enjoy the food, the company, and the chance to rest. But know this: Christ has gifts that last longer than a holiday. If you want to receive them, you’ll find them where He promised to be—at church, among ordinary people who gather to receive mercy they could never earn. You’re welcome here. The Giver meets people there with gifts of forgiveness, mercy, and life. And His gifts never run out.
Make your Thanksgiving more than just a meal. Let it be a moment of clarity—a day when you recognize the Giver behind every blessing and receive His gifts with open hands.
Originally published in the Sounder, November 20, 2025
