Gratitude for What God Hasn't Done

Practicing the unseen side of thankfulness

Years ago, someone close to me broke their arm skateboarding. The frustrating injury required a cast and a sling for three months. The event disrupted nearly an entire summer of planned fun. Around the same time, someone close to that friend had a powerful experience in a church service. Earlier, having lost hearing in one of her ears, she experienced a near-complete supernatural healing during worship time. Upon being told about this miracle, my friend with the broken arm was beset with waves of anger and jealousy about his friend who had healed their hearing. Why, he wondered, would God miraculously heal her but not me?

Experiencing jealousy of God’s hand upon another is something many followers of Jesus will encounter at some point in their spiritual quest. Undoubtedly, one of the more painful experiences one can endure is witnessing someone else receive the miraculous touch of the Lord while we ourselves are not visibly granted such graces. To see God work in someone else’s life in the way you’d wish he’d work in your own can have the power to erupt into envy, bitterness, and outright resentment. We may ask many questions:

Why can everyone else have children, but we can’t?

Why did the Lord heal their marriage but not mine?

Why do their children have a deep faith while mine have walked away?

Why were they given outstanding parents, yet I wasn’t?

The envy of grace is a genuine feeling for many of us at some level. What can make it even more painful is the language that well-meaning Christians use to describe the graces they have been given. “I’ve been blessed,” we hear. Or, “God has truly shown me His favor.” This may be true; such graces should be received as blessings and merciful favors. Yet, for the one who hears these kinds of comments, it leaves a bitter taste in their mouth. If they receive what they wanted as a “blessing,” does that mean I am unblessed? Am I not favored if they experienced “favor” by receiving those gifts?

We may need new theological tools to navigate this gnawing emotional experience. As readers of the New Testament learn, Jesus is recorded as having had personally to process the deaths of two people who were very close to him: Lazarus (his beloved friend) and John the Baptist (his cousin). As many churches will publicly read this coming holy week, Jesus arrives in Bethany to raise his friend Lazarus from the grave. This story reveals, among other things, the power that resides within Jesus’ very being. Jesus was, indeed, “the resurrection and the life.” (Jn. 11:25) A touch from Jesus could bring the dead back to life.

Knowing this, one might expect that the same miracle would occur when Jesus had heard of the death of his cousin, John the Baptist. Beheaded as he was, what would Jesus do for his cousin? Would Jesus do for John what he would eventually do for Lazarus? We are told that John’s body was retrieved by his disciples. There would be no immediate resurrection. Then, a report was sent to Jesus: “John’s disciples came and took his body and buried it,” Matthew records. “Then they went and told Jesus.” (Mt. 14:12) Jesus doesn’t heal John. Nor is he brought back from the dead.

Jesus raises Lazarus. But not John.

Still, we know Jesus could have resurrected John. Sure, could Jesus have resurrected his cousin? Yes! The story of Lazarus shows us that he could. But he doesn’t. The Gospels explain to us why. But it is not unreasonable to expect any reader of these stories to ponder to themselves: Why?

Photo by Sandy Kumar on Unsplash

Whether you know it or not, you are treading among one of the most perplexing—dare I say, frustrating—theological paradoxes of Scripture. The paradox suggests that God does not do everything that He could do. A frustrating truth. But Christians need to remember it.

This paradox, perhaps, could help us better understand the power of God. For instance, consider Paul’s words in Philippians 4 as he addresses the church in Philippi: “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:19). Paul confidently believes that God will fulfill their needs, and rightly so. However, this must be read in conjunction with his earlier remarks in the chapter, where he reveals that he has learned the “secret of being content...whether well-fed or hungry...whether living in plenty or want” (Phil. 4:12). Paul asserts that God will provide for the needs of the Philippians while admitting that he has personally faced times when his own needs went unmet.

This reshapes our understanding of the following verse: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (v. 13) Most certainly, this does not imply that Paul possesses supernatural human strength to tear phone books, lift cars, miraculously provide endless cash flows, or travel at the speed of sound. Paul regularly acknowledges his weaknesses, needs someone to bring him his scrolls, organizes a significant cross-cultural fundraiser for the church in Jerusalem, and faces circumstances that prevent him from going to Rome at nearly every turn. Allegedly, being able to do all things through Christ also includes having things get in the way.

Paul understands the mysterious nature of God’s mighty hand. He recognizes that God’s power can accomplish all things, yet paradoxically, sometimes God does not do everything He is capable of. Learning the lesson of genuine gratitude to God is not merely about what you have received. It is equally about what you have yet to receive.

“One of the most worshipful things we can do,” wisely wrote Christian thinker Gary Thomas, “is to praise God for blessings He has promised that we have not yet received.”¹ One wonders if it can be genuine and authentic and complete gratitude unless we learn to be thankful in the areas in our lives where God has chosen not to fulfill our requests, even if we desperately desire them. Paul has all the sufferings he’d endured in his mind when he writes: “Give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Th. 5:18) He never says “for” all circumstances. It is only “in” all circumstances.

When God gives, it is a gift. And when God doesn’t give, isn’t that also a gift? I once learned from a theological hero that when we consider the inspiration of Scripture, we should not only acknowledge what is present as inspired—but also recognize what is absent. Undoubtedly, every jot and tittle of biblical literature is carefully chosen, intentional, imbued with timeless purpose and transcendent luminescence. Yet, as readers discover, biblical literature teaches not only through what’s present but also by what is missing. God teaches through words, indeed. But God also teaches through the silence and “gaps” between words. That is to say, we learn by what is spoken. And we also learn from what remains unspoken.²

This changes what I’m grateful for today.

I am grateful today that the Lord did not open up countless doors that I thought would make me happy and bring me purpose.

I am grateful to God that I still have yet to experience total healing from wounds from the past.

I am grateful to God that I’m still a piece of work.

I am thankful for our years of infertility despite it infuriating me at my core.

I am grateful to God that I don’t have all the money, power, and prestige I want.

I am grateful to God that work, family, or friend life does not always go how I want it to.

Even saying these things out loud reframes the attitude within us. Practice it. Say out loud the things God has yet to do and express gratitude for them. So, no, Jesus does not heal John the Baptist—in the present. But what is promised on earth but not received on earth will only have one place to be fulfilled: heaven. It is to them—those that are not there yet—that the author of the letter to the Hebrews writes:

They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had the opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. (Heb. 13:1-16)

It is in that city, and that city alone, that all the casts and slings will be taken off for good.

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Thanks again for being a reader of the Low-Level Theologian. You can always find me wasting as little time as possible on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. Or, check out my podcast with Dr. Nijay Gupta at Slow Theology. Remember that I have a book being released on April 29th entitled A Teachable Spirit: The Virtue of Learning from Strangers, Enemies, and Absolutely Anyone with the fine folks at Zondervan Reflective. As announced, I will lead a reading group through this book beginning on May 5th through Substack. All you need is to pre-order the book, let me know you did so here, and be ready to join us for the journey.

1. As recorded in https://garythomas.com/2021/02/09/thanking-god-for-his-promises/.

2. “Biblical gaps” are explored in Meir Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1987), chap. 6.