“How can I be thankful for this?”

I hear that question every time we bump into those verses about giving thanks for all things. And honestly? I get it. Who wants to give thanks for the crummy stuff that keep us awake at night, the things we’d trade away in a heartbeat if we could. I’m not thankful for awful things. Even when walking through them has stretched me, toughened me, or brought me closer to the God I seek, I still wouldn’t call the awful things themselves a gift.

What I am thankful for is the God who stays with me in them. That’s the shift that keeps saving me lately: the difference between giving thanks for all things and giving thanks in all things. “For” asks me to call something good when it isn’t. It asks me to bless what breaks me. “In” reminds me I’m not alone while I’m walking through it. It lets me tell the truth about the struggle while still looking for the thread of grace woven through it. “In” gives me permission to feel the grief and the gratitude at the same time.

Most of us aren’t handing out gold stars to the crummy circumstances we face. But maybe we can pause long enough to notice what’s holding us together in the middle of them: A moment of kindness. A breath that steadies. A friend who checks in. A quiet sense that love hasn’t gone anywhere.

Gratitude in all things isn’t denial. It’s remembering who’s walking with us.

And now here we are stepping into Thanksgiving week, when the world around us feels like it’s shouting: Be joyful! Be grateful! Be festive! Meanwhile, real life is still… real. Some of us will gather around tables that feel complicated. Some of us will navigate grief that sits heavier because everyone else seems cheerful. Some of us will smile through the ache, or try to make peace with the fact that life refuses to pause for the holiday.

So here’s what I want to offer you: You don’t have to gaslight yourself into pretending everything is fine just because there’s pie on the counter. You don’t have to be thankful for the things that hurt. But you can still celebrate the good that’s here. You can still notice the grace that sneaks in. You can still name the blessings that haven’t gone anywhere.

Thanksgiving doesn’t demand that we sanitize our lives. It simply invites us to look around and say, “Even here and even now there is something worth holding onto.”

My wish for you this week, Reader, is to let gratitude and honesty sit side by side. To laugh when something is funny, and cry when something is sad, and let both be true. To savor the warmth of connection without denying the places that still feel tender. To bless the meal without pretending everything has been easy and good. And in all things, remember the One who walks with you. That's the fiLLLed life.

Live a fiLLLed life, Melissa ​

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving!