To ask in the midst of suffering.

You’ll most likely not discover the answer. Not right away anyways. Not to a degree that is at all satisfying. Not sufficiently to alleviate the suffering—which is really why you’d ask that in the first place. I place no judgment on anyone who asks “Why?” It’s quite natural, and perhaps fumbling around in the dark with that question for a while is a necessary step in preparing you for the other questions.

Here are some other questions worth taking time with in the midst suffering:

That atrophies with underuse and strengthens with regular, focused practice. Once a year just isn’t enough. 

For some, Thanksgiving Day can feel like a race that they haven’t trained for. All of the fanfare is exciting, but the real benefits and deepest joys are missed. 

Every day ought to be Thanksgiving, if for no other reason than mental health. It matters little to whom or for what the thanks is given. The effect is still the same. 

Here’s a little Bible:

I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart;

I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.

Psalm 9:1

Here’s a little science:

Whole-hearted, heartfelt gratitude releases dopamine and serotonin in our brains—the neurotransmitters responsible for happiness. Gratitude is a natural anti-depressant. 

What’s more, reliving a positive experience releases another hit of dopamine and serotonin just like the one our brains loved in the moment. 

God hard-wired us to thrive in thankfulness. The Biblical writers, and countless since, bear witness to this. Science now confirms it. 

Thanks be to God! 

I have a friend who was raised to believe that, “If you’re gonna do something do it right—or don’t do it at all.” That was his father’s mantra, and it still haunts him. 

But resent feeling obligated.

Such a delicate balance. 

I used to believe that God’s blessings would bring stability, ease, and comfort. That if God was blessing something in my life, that it meant that thing would largely stay the same, probably improve somehow, and most certainly get easier. 

Now I’m beginning to believe that God’s blessings bring change, challenge, and discomfort. That God’s touch never leaves something the same, and that new territory of transformation is uncharted, sometimes scary, and maybe even a little dangerous. 

What if it comes more in whispers than in shouts?

What if it’s felt more in silence than in subwoofers?

What if it’s not very explosive or newsworthy?

What if it’s not very tweetable, Instagrammable, or YouTubeable?

It’s happened to even the most conscientious among us: A simple drive to the grocery store or something gets interrupted by the flicker of blue and red lights in your rear view mirror. Followed by a flush of nervous adrenaline and embarrassment. Your mind swimming with questions: “What on earth did I do? Did I miss a stop sign? Was I speeding? Is my tail light out?”

The officer walks up to your window, you hand her your license and registration, and she asks, “Do you know how fast you were going?” You pause. You think you know how fast you were going. After all, you’re not a speeder. Surely you were pretty close to the speed limit. Maybe 5 over. No more than 10.

Trusting in the sovereignty of God comes most easily in the abstract. The further out the reality, the easier it is to piously nod my head. But as the concentric circles get closer in to me and my actual life, the higher the stakes get, and the stronger the impulse becomes to take things into my own hands. 

Is earned by learning Jesus’ prayer on the cross: 

Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

Luke 23:34

Glory is that quality of someone or something that attracts attention. Glory demands to be noticed. Glory causes eyes to grow wide, jaws to drop, and voices to gasp. 

We all respond to glory. It’s a human reflex. Like when you see people pulled over on the side of the highway, phones out, pointed up at a double rainbow.