How to grow in gratitude

When I was fifteen, I lived in a townhouse and couldn't imagine having a backyard. If that kid could see my life today, a brick house, two cars, a family I love, he'd say I have everything I ever wanted.

And yet, at 41, I still catch myself thinking the house isn't quite big enough. It isn't new enough. Someone I know just renovated their kitchen, and suddenly mine looks tired.

The problem isn't that I don't have enough. The problem is that I live in a culture that worships more. That desire for more may be good for the economy. I'm not convinced it's good for our souls. You were never created to live a life where nothing is ever enough.

So this series starts with one question: when is enough enough?

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Gratitude needs a foundation

Every November we try to be grateful. We write down something we're thankful for every day of the month. Then December comes and we're right back where we started.

Here's why: you can't be grateful until you learn to be content. Think of a child who opens a gift they didn't want. They say "thank you," but you can see on their face that they aren't. Gratitude can't take root in a heart that still believes it doesn't have enough.

In 1 Timothy 6, Paul writes that "godliness with contentment is great gain." Most of us flip the math. We think, if God gave me great gain, then I'd be content. Paul says no. Contentment is the gain.

He goes on: "We brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world." I've said it many times: one of the best things you can do for your heart is attend more funerals. At a funeral, nobody talks about square footage or salaries. They talk about time spent together, conversations and relationships.

And notice what Paul does not say: money isn't the root of all evil. Money is a tool. It's "the love of money," a controlling craving for more, that is "a root of all kinds of evils."

The finish line keeps moving

The second thing to see: we can't be content if we keep moving the finish line.

At 25, I just wanted to own a home. At 30, I wanted a boat. When the kids came, I wanted more bedrooms. Each time, I thought, if I can just get there, that'll be enough. As a teenager I told Casey that one day we'd have a brick house and two paid-off cars, and that would be living. We got there. And I still wasn't quite content.

I know many of you are feeling the pinch right now. Groceries, gas, interest rates: it's real, and I'm not dismissing it. But desire left unchecked always grows. If you wait until you arrive somewhere to be content, you'll never get there, because you'll keep moving the line.

The good news: contentment can be learned

Paul wasn't just born different. In Philippians 4 he writes, "I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content." He wrote that from prison. This was a man who had once been wealthy, influential and respected, and who lost his money, his freedom and his health when he followed Jesus. That's where he learned it.

And the verse we love to quote right after it, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me," isn't about achieving more. It's about being okay with plenty and with need.

What Jesus offers instead

In Matthew 6, Jesus speaks to poor farmers living under Roman taxes and grain shortages. He doesn't keep multiplying bread. He talks about the heart: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

I think most of us don't actually want more money. We want control: a paid-off house, enough savings to never answer to anyone. But Jesus tells us the truth we don't want to hear. Even with all the money in the world, you still don't have control. A diagnosis, a wayward child, a single phone call can remind you of that.

So Jesus gives us a better way to live, and a better way to think. "Look at the birds of the air... your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" He drives that home because most of us don't feel valuable. We measure ourselves by what we make, what we've built and what we can provide.

When I was 22 and working two jobs to help start a church in Suffolk, I felt the Lord leading me to quit the night job, the one that paid more. I was nervous. Within a week or two, my manager at FedEx called me into his office and told me my pay was going up to match what I'd given up. I didn't cry, but it was close. I sensed the Lord saying, You can trust me. Quit worrying so much.

I'm not promising health and wealth. Sometimes it gets harder. But God has already shown you how much you matter: he sent his Son to live, die and rise again for you. If Christ is enough, we're free to hold everything else with open hands.

I'll say it the way I said it Sunday: I want you to want what you have more than I want you to have what you want.

So this week, ask yourself honestly: when is enough enough? And why isn't Christ enough?

Find practical tools, worksheets, podcasts and next steps at restore.church/thanksgiving.