Be Thankful in All Circumstances

(1 Thessalonians 5:18)

It's a dark, rainy morning, and I'm still in bed, listening to the soothing rhythm of raindrops dancing across my window and roof. I smile and whisper, "Yes, God... more rain. Keep it coming."

I truly love the rain. Most days, it feels like a gift.

Eventually, I climb out of bed and begin my morning with Scripture. Today's reading is 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18.

Always be joyful. (v.16)Never stop praying. (v.17)Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. (v.18)

I pause.

"Be thankful in all circumstances."

That's the verse that catches in my throat.

Always joyful? I can't honestly say I am, though I try. Pray without ceasing? I know I need to do that more. But being thankful... in all circumstances?

Even the ones I created myself? (eek!)

What about the consequences of poor decisions? The seasons that hurt because of my own pride, impatience, fear, or stubbornness? What about the lessons I wouldn't have chosen if I'd had the option?

Those are harder to be thankful for.

Lately, I've found myself surrounded by lessons. Some beautiful. Some painful. Some that exposed parts of me I didn't know were still there.

I love learning. In fact, I pride myself on being a lifelong student. I rarely read fiction because I'd rather spend my time learning something that stretches me or fills a gap in my understanding.

But these days, life itself has become the classroom.

And honestly?

These aren't the lessons I would have signed up for.

If I could press the fast-forward button and skip this chapter altogether, I probably would.

If only life worked that way.

The truth is, we don't get to skip the refining.

At forty-eight years old, I know something I didn't know when I was younger: this season will pass. It always does. One day I'll look back and see what God was doing all along.

But while I'm living it... it can still hurt.

Part of the reason, I think, is because I have intentionally stepped outside of my comfort zone. I've attempted things beyond my experience, beyond my skill set, and beyond what felt safe.

There's a saying that goes, "Fail fast. Fail forward. Fail often."

Well...

Mission accomplished.

I've stumbled more times than I care to admit.

Yet perhaps that's exactly where today's Scripture meets me.

As I wrestled with how I could possibly thank God for this messy season, I challenged myself to write down twenty-five things I was grateful for.

To my surprise, the list came easily.

Twenty-five became not enough.

Somehow, in the middle of circumstances I wished were different, gratitude was still there, quietly waiting to be noticed.

And suddenly I remembered the rain.

Just a few hours earlier, I had been thanking God for the storm outside my window.

Rain is a blessing.

• It washes away the dust.

• It nourishes what is dying.

• It softens hard ground.

• Sometimes it floods.

But even then, perhaps it's clearing away what no longer belongs.

Maybe God does the same with us.

I've made countless mistakes.

I still carry flaws that I wish I had conquered years ago.

And honestly?

I welcome the flood of the Holy Spirit.

• Wash away what doesn't belong.

• Remove the pride.

• Expose the selfishness.

• Strip away everything that keeps me from becoming the woman You created me to be.

Like Paul, I often find myself doing the very things I don't want to do, while failing to do the things I know I should. (Romans 7:15–20.)

My old self clings tightly.

No matter how determined I am to leave her behind, she seems to keep showing up.

But she is no longer who I am.

She may still whisper, but she no longer gets the final say.

Only God has the power to change a heart.

I've tried changing myself through discipline, determination, and sheer willpower.

It never lasts.

Transformation isn't something I manufacture.

It's something I surrender to.

Every single day.

This week, I want to surrender again.

• I want to pray more.

• I want to ask for forgiveness more quickly.

• I want to stop striving so hard and start trusting more deeply.

  
  

Because if anyone needs God's healing and correction, it's me.

And that's exactly why I'm thankful.

I'm thankful that God's Word doesn't shame me when it reveals my weaknesses.

It doesn't condemn me.

It lovingly points me back to the path.

He already knows every flaw I carry, every failure I've hidden, every fear I've wrestled with.

None of it surprises Him.

And yet, His patience never runs out.

He simply reaches out His hand each time I stumble and says, "Come. Let's keep walking."

Maybe you're walking through a season that's difficult too.

Maybe you're struggling to find even one reason to give thanks.

I understand.

It's easy to become consumed by our circumstances. They cloud our vision until we can no longer see beyond the pain. If we're not careful, we stop moving altogether.

But don't stop walking.

If gratitude feels impossible today, start small.

Write down ten things you're thankful for.

• Or 25

• Or 100!

I think you'll discover what I did—that gratitude has a way of reminding us that God's goodness never disappeared. We simply lost sight of it for a moment.

One of the things on my own list is this space.

The privilege of writing.

The privilege of sharing my journey with you.

Yes, it means exposing my flaws, my failures, and my imperfections.

But perhaps that's where real connection begins.

None of us are finished yet.

We're all simply learning to walk through the rain, discovering that even the storms can become evidence of God's grace.

And for that...

I truly am thankful.

Until next time,

💙 Mirza