Which Will You Choose: The Root of Bitterness or the Gift of Gratitude?
When a horrible tragedy or trying circumstance occurs, what is your first response? If your answer to that question is to complain or be bitter, then it’s time to re-evaluate your heart. Holding bitterness in your heart is as deadly as injecting poison into your bloodstream. Gratitude, on the other hand, is a sweet medicine to the soul.
In Perry Stone’s article, “This Will Send Christians to Hell,” he states that Christians harboring “unforgiveness…could send them to hell.” While many churchgoers may perform all of the religious rituals well, their hearts are harder than rocks. In many accounts, individuals who went to hell and back state that the cause of their fall was unforgiveness toward those who hurt them. It’s time to forgive and be free!
In Keeping On Keeping On, Mark Rutland details the story of an extraordinary family amidst a devastating situation: “Gratitude comes naturally to few. The rest of us have to work at it. I have had to work at it, and I still do. Jack Gray was correct. Gratitude is not so much about feeling as it is about doing. Act grateful, and eventually, you will be more grateful. Along the way, I’ve had others teach me gratitude, and I am still learning.
In 1982, Ghana was in a mess. The ruling junta was led by a ruthless and murderous Maoist dictator named J.J. Rawlings. Secret police who prowled the streets spied on everyone and even attacked some pastors in their pulpits. After curfew, soldiers shot anyone on the streets, no questions asked. Petrol was outrageously expensive and rationed. The borders were closed so the shelves in the stores were empty. One could not buy bread or batteries. A paralyzed nation in the grip of hunger and under the boot of tyranny seemed an unlikely place to learn about gratitude.
Yet, it was then and there where I saw the most authentic Christianity, the most genuine gratitude, and the most abandoned, unfettered praise in churches and families. Ghanaians in the early eighties were not the spoiled brats of today’s Western church. They were not complaining about the music and the children’s ministry or that the sermon went too long. They were filled with joy. They danced, literally danced, before the Lord and praised Him for small blessings. Their testimonies were not about winning the lottery ‘because God wants me rich.’ They were about how ‘the soldiers took my son two weeks ago, but he was released yesterday and is recovering very quickly.’ This would not be followed by fear and self-pity, but by applause and rejoicing and prayers for the soldiers to find the Lord.
One night, I saw what humility and gratitude look like, what they really look like. I saw it up close and personal, and I will never forget it. I was staying in the home of a college president in Kumasi. In Ghana, in 1982, that on-campus home was decidedly not the presidential mansion on an Ivy League campus. The whole college was hanging by a thread. The students worked in the college garden just so the little cafeteria would be able to feed them something. The electricity operated with all the dependability of a drunken Uber driver, and the faculty lived in small rundown cottages on the campus and worked for hardly more than room and board.
I found out that the oldest son’s sixteenth birthday was to be celebrated one night; but, of course, I had no gift and no place to buy one. I did the only thing I could think of. I was at the end of my trip so I had one clean T-shirt left. I folded it neatly with a ten-dollar bill (US) inside and put it in a plastic bag from a bookstore at Heathrow Airport. I was mortified that it was all I could do.
That night, after a supper of rice with scattered bits of chicken stirred in, the president’s wife produced a small cake, hardly larger than a cinnamon bun, and we sang happy birthday to the young man. There were no presents, of course. There was a cake humiliated by its small size cut five ways, and everyone sang Happy Birthday. That was it. At that moment, I presented my ‘gift,’ such as it was: a clean, used T-shirt and ten dollars in foreign currency.
His enthusiasm and gratitude were downright embarrassing. For their part, the president of that ragged little African college and his wife acted like the United States had sent them an ambassador with a congressional proclamation and a new car. They hugged me and thanked me extravagantly; then we all stood and sang a Ghanaian chorus about the unfailing goodness of God.
Gratitude in the face of adversity or need charms the heart of God.”
For more information on Mark Rutland’s new book, Keep On Keeping On, visit MyCharismaShop.com