There is Always Something to Be Thankful For

If I were to describe Thanksgiving 2016 in a couple of words, I would choose therapeutic and life-giving. At the time, our little family lived on the edge of Accra, Ghana’s esteemed capital. Ten fruit trees and a rectangle of grass grew on our property, but otherwise, the rest of our premises was man-made: a cement house, large gray brick courtyard, and a high wall that outlined the perimeter of our property and obstructed our view of the neighborhood. When I left our courtyard, it often meant going deeper into the city where there were, of course, more cement buildings. Tall ones. Unfinished ones with rebar poking crookedly from second stories. Buildings with crumbling concrete or brilliant paint. The streets were clogged with the chaos and commotion of too many cars and too little parking.

On Thanksgiving weekend, we traveled four hours to celebrate the holiday with other Americans. Our hosts’ home had a spacious backyard that ran in grassy exuberance up to the Atlantic’s rocky shore. The expansive ocean was wonderfully therapeutic to my city-sore eyes. The salty breeze that blew inland brought a welcome change from the stale air stirred by our lazy ceiling fans.

On that Sunday morning, a group of us gathered beneath a red-and-blue-striped canopy. I listened to the message, truly. But at first my attention was glued to that majestic ocean. I could see miles of surging water between me and the horizon. Hand-crafted fishing boats that carried men to prime fishing spots bobbed on undulating waves. A mast from a sunken ship poked tenaciously above the water, then disappeared beneath higher crests, adding mystery and intrigue to the scene. Nearer to me, waves crashed against the rocky shore and exploded into liquid fireworks.

All I saw thrilled me. I tried internalizing the view, knowing I would want to drink from its beauty many times after we returned to our cement-clad home.

But the scenery wasn’t the only thing I would carry away.

The speaker that morning was a stranger to me, a visitor named Leonard Meador. He and his wife were traveling with an aid organization and happened to be in the area for Thanksgiving. In his message, Leonard told us that he received a cancer diagnosis and a grim prognosis several years earlier. At the moment, Leonard’s life was no longer threatened by rogue cells, thanks to successful treatments, but he spoke candidly with no noticeable self-pity of those difficult days.

“When I awoke each morning, I chose thankfulness because I knew that regardless of my circumstances, there is always, always something to be thankful for.”

Thankful? When his world and maybe his very life was crumbling? I forgot the waves and the ocean. These were not empty platitudes spoken from pharisaic lips. They were words coming from a man who had chosen daily gratitude in the face of death.

Leonard continued. “I knew I always had something to thank God for because of these absolutes:

1. God is still on the throne. 
2. Jesus is preparing a place for those who love Him. 
3. Our God, unlike the gods of other religions, loves us and wants a relationship with His children.
4. Jesus saves us from our sins." 

I pocketed the crux of Leonard’s message and carried it with me to Accra, through the end of our term in Ghana, and eventually back to America. Especially during Thanksgiving season, I remember this message and consider the absolutes within it again. Regardless of my disappointments and unfulfilled dreams, regardless of failure, regardless of kidnappings and political unrest and pandemic complications that can unsettle me, there is always, always something to thank God for.