Ask anyone who has ever studied the Bible with me – I’m big on context. Bible verses, and really any kind of writing, should never be plucked out of their surrounding text and infused with meaning all their own. Yet I’m writing today because I did just that. I was praying in front of my space heater this morning when its draft caused the pages of my Bible to flip to the middle of the Psalms. I glanced down and saw two verses underlined in the text of Psalm 71, and suddenly, a heart which had been empty of anything to write for months awoke.

Today is Thanksgiving, and I haven’t been looking forward to it much at all. I joined the trend of “sugar detoxing” a month ago, which means my favorite Thanksgiving foods are out: yams with marshmallows, massive amounts of mashed potatoes, and my stepdad’s famous pumpkin mousse cake. This doesn’t mean I’m thankless on Thanksgiving, but I’m certainly not overflowing with gratitude. Enter Psalm 71. The ruler-straight pen-marks in my Bible underlined verses 20 and 21:

You who have made me see troubles and calamities… well, that’s a little unthanksgiving-y, isn’t it? For all of you who know me, you know I’ve had plenty of troubles and calamities in my life. Bipolar depression is bad enough on its own, but when you add to that three years of being treated for the wrong disease… a calamity, indeed. Add to that the loss of my career, devastating medication side-effects, and the inability to financially support myself and I can see why I started underlining the Psalm at verse 20. What seems especially ungrateful though, is the “you who have made me see.”

You who have made me see. I don’t believe God willingly laid upon me such sorrows as I have endured, but I do know that he uses the brokenness of this world to scorch us with his refining fire. So, here is why it is so fitting that the warm breeze from my space heater flipped to Psalm 71 on Thanksgiving morning: there is nothing I am more grateful for in my life as the calamity of my illness and its aftermath. I’m not sure if, when I underlined this Psalm so precisely, I had reached the relief of being comforted, of being revived and brought up again. Whether or not I did, I now know deep in my heart the greatness he was preparing me for.

Wishing for greatness seems a little heretical among Christians today, but this is only true if we are not also always aware of God’s immense grace. What does seeking to be great in his kingdom look like? Jesus tells us it is always and only by being least. Only by being humbled and refined by God himself may grace abound in us. Have this mind among yourselves, Paul says to the Philippians, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. Only the empty may be filled and only the mourners may be comforted. Oh, how great is the greatness of God!

Today I give thanks for the worst days of my life, for only through them has God given me his greatness. Instead of longing for personal success and comfort I long to learn from God’s Book and give its marvelous words to others. I am thankful because only through my sickness has God brought me healing. Only through my sorrow has he shown me true joy. But if you lack thanks on this Thanksgiving, do not cheapen that sorrow by smiling and dismissing it. Do not say you have hope when all you feel is despair. Just take it from the psalmist that all the children of God are precious in his sight, and he only ever wants for our joy and our praise. One day soon, you will rejoice with me and sing,

I will also praise you with the harp
for your faithfulness, O my God;
I will sing praises to you with the lyre,
O Holy One of Israel.
My lips will shout for joy,
when I sing praises to you;
my soul also, which you have redeemed.

Psalm 71:22-23

Psalm 71:20-21
Philippians 2:5-7
Psalm 71:22-23