This Thanksgiving, I will pause before carving that turkey and give thanks for the bad things that didn’t happen.
I try to thank God for those adverse events that could have happened but didn’t. One morning, I greeted my wife, waving my arms as if we’d just won the lottery, “Guess what, Lori, you won’t believe it.” When I had her full attention, I declared, “The electricity didn’t get shut off, it works, we’ve even got hot water.” Rolling her eyes, she threw me a sarcastic “Haha.”
But she agrees with me: despite the occasional bad weather, everyday aches and pains, threats of another world crisis, and, oh yes, the constant factor: inflation, we can be grateful—even when I’m not teasing, and the electricity doesn’t work, and bad things do happen. Life is still darn good.
Being grateful for what didn’t happen is not to make light of dire situations, plenty of which exist. I recall my dad’s response when he was diagnosed with lymphoma, which eventually took his life. “Well, son,” he sighed, “none of us are getting out of here alive. I’ll just make the best of it.” Despite the terrible news the doctors had just handed Dad, he still knew he had control of the one card he could play: his attitude.
I had to remind myself of that just the other night. On my way to teach a night class for Campbellsville University, a deer attacked my car. At least, that’s what it felt like. Even though my eyes were on the road, and I had left in plenty of time, so I didn’t need to speed—there was that deer, a big buck—and in a flash, smack dab in front of my car as I was traveling happily along, minding my own business. Little did the buck care that I was on a mission (at least in my mind) where I was about to trace the story of evangelism in the church’s history. That big buck didn’t care. My headlights irresistibly drew him to the front end of my car. In an instant, airbags engulfed me, the hood of my car hid me, and I thought I was trapped inside.
Then I heard a voice, “Are you okay in there?” There are still nice people in this world, and this one helped me out, even staying until a tow truck arrived, which took less than five minutes since, thankfully, they happened to be traveling along and saw me moments after the mishap. And most importantly, I wasn’t injured. I was well and whole and “in my right mind.” (though some might debate that last phrase.)
An old friend likes to say, “If money can fix it, it ain’t no problem.”
But my friend would readily admit there are some problems money can’t fix. Those have come my way, too. Even then, as painful and gut-wrenching as they are, we can still give thanks. No matter the problem, the God of creation is bigger. And in Jesus Christ, I have the assurance of knowing this God will never leave me or forsake me.
Our gratitude for things that didn’t happen can help us recognize that the tiny spot on this earth that we occupy is the only place we can be at any given moment, with the people in front of us or next to us. This moment is the only moment we have, painful as that moment might be. As the 18th-century French Jesuit priest and spiritual director said, “There is not a moment in which God does not present Himself under the cover of some pain to be endured, of some consolation to be enjoyed, or of some duty to be performed. All that takes place within us, around us, or through us, contains and conceals His divine action.“
I’m grateful the big buck didn’t crash through my windshield, possibly ending my time here. But I’m also sad I intruded into his territory, which cost him his life. I’m grateful that he left me a message on his way out: “The things that didn’t happen to you have led you to this exact place and precise time. Be grateful for the moments you have.”
Yes, deer, I will.
This Thanksgiving. And forever.
You can reach Dr. David Whitlock at drdavid@davidwhitlock.org