Good morning, First Baptist Church! How are we all doing this morning?

Before we take our seats, can we take a moment to give another round of applause for Abe and
the rest of our amazing worship team? I don’t know about you, but I feel so privileged to be here
today, to call this church my family in Christ, and to have the opportunity to share with you what
God has laid on my heart.

As we transitioned from Halloween to Thanksgiving, I felt the Lord impress upon me a message
of thanksgiving and gratitude—not just about what it means to be thankful, but how we live that
out in our daily lives. Church, I believe He’s calling us to go deeper, to graduate in our levels of
gratitude.

Over 400 years ago, our forefathers began a tradition of coming together to celebrate with food
and to give praise to the Creator. The tradition is often traced back to 1621. By 1777, during the
colonies’ fight for independence, Samuel Adams—who would later become one of our Founding
Fathers—declared a national proclamation of thanksgiving.

In part, that proclamation read:

“For as much as it is the indispensable duty of all men to adore the superintending
providence of Almighty God, to acknowledge with gratitude their obligation to Him
for benefits received.”

What powerful words, Church. Can you imagine? During the fight for independence—not even
as a nation, but as colonies under British siege—our leaders called us to stop, to pause, and to
give praise and thanksgiving. Can you imagine the impact of such a proclamation from our
government today?

Even after the colonies became America and gained independence, the tradition of
Thanksgiving would wax and wane—sometimes celebrated, sometimes forgotten. In 1789,
George Washington, as President, issued the first official Thanksgiving holiday. Fun fact: it was
in December! This holiday served to remind our young nation that even as we learned to stand
on our own among the nations of the world, we still had to kneel before the Creator of the
universe.
Yet, Thanksgiving wasn’t made an annual holiday until a conflict even greater than the
Revolutionary War—the Civil War.

At the height of brother fighting against brother, in the midst of this great national strife, in 1863,
President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a national day of Thanksgiving. This proclamation
moved Thanksgiving from December to the week in November that we celebrate today. And in
1863, during America’s bloodiest conflict, Lincoln began his proclamation with these words:

“The year that is drawing towards its close has been filled with the blessings of
fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, others have been added.”

Even in a time of great national turmoil, Lincoln reminded us of our duty to thank God. From
1863 to the present, Thanksgiving has been a time for us to gather, feast, and pause to give
praise to God.

But Church, let me ask you this: How often do we rush through Thanksgiving? We’re worried
about family dynamics, thinking about the football game, or planning for tomorrow’s Black Friday
sales. Before we’re even done saying grace, our minds are already on the iPad, the iPhone, or
kickoff.

Just as moving from a white belt to a black belt in martial arts—or from a high school diploma to
a doctorate—requires effort and progression, so does gratitude. Church, I believe we are being
called to level up our gratitude.

Like any worthwhile pursuit, this takes time and effort because gratitude doesn’t come naturally
to us. Think about it. If you disagree, spend some time with a toddler. Gratitude is not pre-
installed in our children. Sure, they might amaze us with wisdom beyond their years or impress
us with their energy, but it’s up to us as parents to teach them the value of gratitude and how to
express it.

In the same way, just as we teach our children, our Father in Heaven teaches us. God starts us
off with a revelation of gratitude—what I like to call the “kids’ table” of gratitude.

Let’s take a look at Moses speaking to the Israelites on the edge of the Promised Land in
Deuteronomy 8:7–10. Here’s what the Word of God says:
 “For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with brooks,
streams, and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills; a land with wheat
and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil, and honey; a land where
bread will not be scarce, and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron,
and you can dig copper out of the hills.

When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land
He has given you.”

Pay attention, Church! This is where we anchor ourselves at the kids’ table of gratitude.

“When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land
He has given you.”

We often think we’re on the edge of God’s promises, and it’s here, at this starting point, where
we’re taught the first level of gratitude. At the “kids’ table,” we begin teaching children to say
"thank you," even though they might not fully understand what it means. Just like a toddler
doesn’t comprehend the exhaustion of pulling three doubles, shopping, and preparing a meal
while they’re screaming, do we truly grasp the ways in which God provides for us?

This makes me think of Job’s dialogue with God in Job 38:4, where God asks:

"Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely, you know! Who stretched a measuring line
across it?"

Even more humbling is Job’s response in Job 40:4:

"I am unworthy—how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth."

Church, God’s ways are as far beyond our understanding as our ways are to the child at the
table. Yet, we still teach children to say "thank you," even when they don’t understand. And God
does the same for us.

Because, Church, gratitude isn’t just an attitude; it’s a verb. It’s an action. Gratitude must be
expressed. Imagine someone saying, "I love you, but I don’t have to show it—you know what’s
in my heart." It doesn’t work that way! If someone said that to me, I’d want to shake them and
say, "No, I don’t know!"
Think about the Israelites at this “kids’ table” moment. They had been wandering, hungry,
hearing promises of a land flowing with milk and honey. They were desperate, like children
waiting to be fed. And what happens when a child is hungry at the table? They bang their fists
and say, "Mommy, I want food!" or "Daddy, I’m hungry!"

Now consider this: how often do we treat God’s table like that?
"Lord, I need this miracle."
"Lord, I’m lonely—I need a girlfriend."
"Lord, I need a job."
Or, "Lord, if you just heal me this one last time, I promise I’ll change!"

Parents, what do we do when a child bangs their fists on the table, demanding food? We
provide for them, right? And if we, as flawed, limited humans, can give good gifts to our children,
how much more will our Heavenly Father provide for us?

But think about this, parents: when you place food in front of a hungry child, what do they do?
They dive right in. They’re starving, so they eat without hesitation. How often do we treat God’s
provisions the same way? We dive right into the blessings without giving God the praise He
deserves.

You pray for a job, and when God provides it, you’re so consumed with work and promotions
that you forget to thank Him for it. You pray for healing, and when God delivers, you go right
back to the habits that made you sick in the first place. We bang on God’s table for provision,
but we don’t offer Him the praise.

How often do we treat coming to worship like this? God gives us 168 hours in a week, and we
struggle to give Him 61 minutes. We come in, chat a little, sing a few hymns, hear a message
from the pastor, and rush out to meet friends for lunch.

We are in the presence of the Almighty Creator of the universe. Shouldn’t we want to linger in
His presence and give Him praise?

This first level of gratitude—thanking God for His blessings—is vital, but it’s still the “kids’ table.”
It’s the beginner level. Moses taught the Israelites this lesson, and Paul echoed it in the New
Testament.
In 1 Corinthians 3:2, Paul writes:

"I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it."

It’s okay to sit at the kids’ table when we’re not ready for more. But God doesn’t leave us as
children forever. We grow. And just as we outgrow the kids’ table at Thanksgiving, we are called
to move deeper into gratitude.

Before we dive deeper, though, I want us to practice this level of gratitude right now. Think for a
moment, Church: what are you thankful for today? Reflect on it. Then, turn to your neighbor and
share. Let’s turn this room into a wellspring of thanksgiving and praise.

I’ll start. I’m thankful for the roof over my head today—a roof that’s bigger and better than it was
six months or a year ago. I’m thankful for God delivering me out of a dark place.

And you know what? Maybe your praise doesn’t feel extraordinary to you, but every one of us
can say, "I’m thankful for drawing breath today." Let’s make this a moment of simple
thanksgiving.

This right here is powerful and essential. Thanking God for His provisions is foundational.

Just like we need power to keep our homes running, we need God’s power to sustain us. He’s
the ultimate source, the Holy Spirit empowering us every day. And just as the electric company
sends us a bill to remind us of our reliance on their service, God extends us an invitation every
day to give Him gratitude.

But Church, sometimes we forget to pay our "bill" of praise. The utility company sends a letter
when our account is overdue, sometimes with bright red letters that say "PAST DUE." Similarly,
God might be telling someone here today that your praise is past due.

Maybe it’s a friend group from last year that was leading you astray, and God gave you the
discernment to make better choices this year. Maybe it was an area of study you were
struggling with, and now you’ve gained understanding.

Whether it’s someone in youth group or someone sitting here in the congregation, I guarantee
that someone’s praise is past due.
But here’s the wonderful thing about God:

When you don’t pay your power bill, what happens? The power company shuts you off, right?
But as long as you’re drawing breath, you have the opportunity and the access to praise and
receive God’s blessings. Unlike the power company, God’s provision isn’t contingent on our
gratitude. He doesn’t give us the opportunity to express gratitude because He needs it—He
gives it to us because our hearts need it.

When we realign ourselves with Him through praise for the provisions we’ve received, we’re
plugging back into the power source. We remember His power, His presence, and His unfailing
love when we give praise—but we have to give it. So, if there’s someone in this room who feels
disconnected from God, it’s time to give that past-due praise.

It’s time to pay that "bill" and thank God for what He’s already given. Move from an inward
attitude of gratitude to an outward expression of it. Let your life reflect how grateful you are.
Church, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to sit at the kids’ table anymore. It’s
uncomfortable, and I’m too big to be here.

I want the kind of gratitude—and I believe this is what God is calling all of us to—that moves
beyond thanking Him for the good and into thanking Him even though.

"The Lord is my shepherd... for the green pastures, and even though there are dark
valleys."

To understand this deeper gratitude, let’s turn to Psalm 23. Even if this is your first time in
church, or if you’ve only attended funerals or faced hardship, these words might be familiar to
you. Psalm 23 is one of the Bible’s most beloved passages—not just for comfort in uncertainty
but as a model for deeper thanksgiving.

Psalm 23 calls us to thank God not only for the green pastures but even though we walk
through the darkest valleys. So, Church, let’s stand together and recite these words with open
hearts, letting them resonate within us:

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters,
He refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
 Surely Your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Church, to understand this deeper level of gratitude, we need to understand the man behind
these words. To grasp the context of this psalm, we must understand the character of David.

David was a man who knew what it was like to go without. He grew up as a forgotten shepherd
boy in the fields but rose to sit in the king’s palace. Yet, even as king, David never forgot who he
was, where he came from, or—most importantly—who was with him every step of the way.
David’s gratitude wasn’t dependent on God only for the palace; it extended to thanking Him
even though there were dark valleys.

David wrote Psalm 23 from a place of deep personal experience. As a young boy, he stood
against Goliath, the Philistine giant no one dared to approach. With God’s strength, David
defeated him with a single stone and sling. But that victory was only the beginning.

For years, King Saul, threatened by David’s anointing as future king, hunted him down. David
hid in caves, survived in the wilderness, and depended on God moment by moment, unsure if
he would see the next sunrise. Church, I don’t know how many of you have been homeless or
fugitives, but I’ve been both. It’s dreadful. If you haven’t, just imagine the fear and isolation
David must have felt.

Even in those moments, David knew he was never abandoned. He never lost his faith in God.
So when David says,

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for
You are with me,"

he isn’t some silver-spoon elite reciting poetic words. He’s a man who has been in the valley,
who knows the weight of darkness, who has faced enemies without and demons within. Yet, no
matter what, he chose to trust God and praise Him—even in the valley.

David understood a fundamental truth, something Paul Washer captures beautifully when he
says about marriage:
 "How would you ever learn unconditional love if you were married to someone who
met all your conditions?"

Church, this might be hard for those of us raised on fairy-tale romances to understand.
Shouldn’t the person we commit to meet all our criteria? But if they did, where would the growth
come from? God uses imperfect conditions to grow us, refine us, and deepen our faith.

If God uses marriage to grow us, how much more does He use our relationship with Him to do
the same? Maybe God doesn’t give you what you want because He knows it’s not what you
need. You didn’t get that job at Enron because six months later, the company collapsed. You
didn’t date that person because God was preparing you for someone better.

Our understanding is limited, but God sees the full picture.

Now, let’s look again at the table David describes:

"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies."

David is telling us that no matter who else is at the table, we still sit down and say, "Thank You,
God." Even when surrounded by opposition, we give thanks. David understood that God’s
presence at the table outweighs any enemy. Whether hiding in the wilderness from Saul or
lamenting his own sins with Bathsheba, David knew God was with him.

So, Church, are we the kind of Christians who can say, "Thank You, God," even though?

● Even though the diagnosis isn’t what we prayed for.

● Even though the friendship we cherished has ended.
● Even though the prayer hasn’t been answered.
●

Can we sit at God’s table, focus on His presence, and thank Him for the overflowing cup He
provides?

"My cup overflows."

Even in the presence of our enemies, God not only sets the table and prepares a place for us,
but He also pours a cup that overflows. No matter the trouble, pain, or opposition, His provision
is more than enough.
It may look like we’re surrounded by trouble, but Church, we’re surrounded by God’s presence
in that trouble. We’re surrounded by His peace beside the pain, and by His protection despite
the opposition.

David and Moses taught this to the Israelites, and we see it echoed in the New Testament by
Paul. In 1 Corinthians 13:11, Paul writes:

"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a
child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me."

When we’re new in our faith, it’s okay to sit at the kids’ table. But God calls us to grow. We’re
meant to move deeper into gratitude.

But Church, this doesn’t end here. There’s another level—one where there are no tables at all.
Let’s think about that for a moment.

We teach gratitude at the kids’ table by saying thank you for the blessings we receive. It’s
transactional: God provides, and we give Him praise. And that’s good—it’s biblical. We are
taught this in Scripture, and it’s a vital foundation.

At the adult table, we grow deeper in our faith. We learn to give thanks even though—even
though God’s will might be beyond our understanding or His promises have not yet been
fulfilled. But here too, there is still a transaction. It’s a transaction of praise: we thank God for
what He has done or even though the outcome isn’t what we expected.

Yet, Church, I believe God is calling us to go beyond these tables.

In Revelation 4:11, we read:

"You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you
created all things, and by your will, they were created and have their being."

This is the ultimate level of praise. It’s not about what God has done or will do—it’s about who
He is.
Think about that, Church. You and I, we are not random collections of cells, accidents of
evolution, or the result of cosmic dice being thrown. Our consciousness is not the product of
random neurons firing. We were created by a God who knows us intimately.

Before we drew breath, before we were even formed in the womb, God designed every part of
us. Isn’t that incredible? But it doesn’t stop there. God is not a distant, impersonal force. He’s
not limited to being just a god of fertility, the earth, or any one thing. Our God is the Creator of
all things—and yet, He became one of us.

Jesus came to this world and lived as we do. He played as a child, learned from parents and
teachers, experienced friendship and sibling relationships. He faced bullies. He knew both the
highs of joyful celebration and the lows of deep loss. He dined with the wealthy, healed the sick,
and wept for loved ones.

How incredible is that, Church? We have a God who knows loss, a God who is holy and
righteous, a source of unwavering truth in a world where values constantly shift. While culture
tells us to "live our truth," God gives us an unchanging standard of what is good, just, and true.

He is a shepherd who leads us through green pastures and dark valleys. He is a Savior who
gave His life to open the way to eternal life.

But Church, when was the last time we said thank You—not for what He has done, not for His
promises, but simply because He is?

When was the last time we thanked God simply because He is holy, because He is just,
because He is love?

This, Church, is the message I’ve been called to deliver. This is the opportunity for us to go to
the deepest level of thanksgiving—the deep end of gratitude. God is calling us to move beyond
thanking Him for blessings received or promises anticipated. He’s calling us to thank Him for
who He is.

It’s about recognizing God’s existence, His attributes, His sacrifice, and His love for us. These
truths alone should cause our hearts to overflow with thanksgiving.
So this week, when you sit down at the table with family and friends, take time to thank God for
the blessings you’ve received this year. Reflect on His goodness in your life. Remember His gift
of salvation through Christ.

For those of us who have walked with Him for a while, it’s time to leave the kids’ table behind.
It’s time to mature in our gratitude. It’s time to thank God even though—even though the
answers to our prayers may not have come, even though we may not have received everything
we hoped for.

And here’s my challenge for you: this Thanksgiving, take time in your prayers—not to ask God
for anything, not to thank Him in advance for what He will do—but to focus entirely on praising
Him for who He is.

"I thank You, Lord, because You are holy.

I thank You, Lord, because You are just.
I thank You, Lord, because You are love.
You are unchanging, Lord."

Church, let’s give thanks this Thanksgiving because He is. Whether we are in green pastures,
dark valleys, or moments of loneliness, God is present. He is our Shepherd. He is our Friend.

He is righteousness. He is holy.

So let’s move away from simply thanking God for what He’s done or what we’re waiting for.
Let’s thank Him simply because He is our God.