Thanksgiving week churns up our hearts, often creating that uncomfortable knowing there will be an empty chair. The anticipation builds as the day draws near. But for us grieving hearts, there is always an empty chair, not just on one day, but every day.

God tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:18, “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” This passage was such a hard one to grasp when I was new in my grief.

I think most of us at one point in our grief think, “Umm no, I am not thankful for this grief. I am not grateful. There is nothing good to come from the death of my loved one.”

I know. I felt those same feelings 17 years ago.

Recently, as I sat in church I looked around the small congregation, some I knew, some I didn’t, and I thought to myself, “Am I the only one in here who has lost a child? Am I the only one who has suffered unimaginable loss?”

As the pastor continued his message, he reiterated the power of how our lives and decisions can create a ripple effect to those around us. As I listened, I looked around and knew some were hurting. Some were single parents, some had recently lost a loved one, some were enduring uphill health battles. The list was endless. All of us there were facing some sort of trial in life.

But what do we do with that? We often get so focused on our own difficulties and pain that we forget about the suffering of others. We can become so consumed by our own struggles that we overlook those standing right beside us, fighting their own battles.

The pastor’s words stayed with me, echoing a realization I’d had just days before while on a walk with a friend. We’d been talking about how it seemed everyone was having trials in life—health issues, finances, job stress, family woes. Yet as we chatted, we realized again how blessed our lives really were. Despite the hardships we’ve endured, in all reality, we had it really good. Perspective paints such a powerful landscape, doesn’t it?

But sometimes perspective doesn’t come gently through conversation; sometimes it crashes into us with devastating force. Years ago, that’s exactly what happened when I learned of a friend, a dear woman, wife, and mother whose young adult child had just passed away in a car accident. Rapidly, all my worries about everyday problems seemed ridiculous. Perspective came rushing back to me in a moment’s notice, bringing me back to reality.  That was a moment I will never forget.

I had been there. I had been that mom whose child died. I had made that dreaded phone call as I lay helpless in our mangled and demolished car. My eyes welled up with tears, as I knew exactly how this newly bereaved mother was feeling. After a few moments, I caught myself holding my breath as I abruptly stopped in my tracks to say a prayer for her and her family.

My heart is heavy. It’s not fair, this arduous, frightening journey that was forced upon this mother. That day it was her child, tomorrow it will be someone else’s father, mother, brother, sister, son, or daughter. It knows no discrimination. No one is exempt. Loss. Grief. They will find us at some point in our lives when we least expect it, pulling us into an abyss of heartbreak and despair.

And then what? What do we do when we’re standing on the edge of that abyss, or when we see someone else teetering there? I’ve learned that among the daily stress, tension, and challenges of life, we must stop and search for gratitude. It’s not about denying the pain or pretending everything is fine, it’s about recognizing what a gift it is to even be alive. For that car that is broken, give thanks that you have a car to fix. For that necessary and expensive home repair, give thanks and realize what a gift it is to even have a home. For that taxing job, give thanks that it pays the bills. For that exhausting child, give thanks for their strong personality and recall how wonderful it was the day they were born.

This is where perspective becomes our lifeline. When we embrace it and look with eyes of wonder and hope for tomorrow, everything shifts. We begin to take time to enjoy the rainbow of colors in that sunset. We appreciate being able to hear those birds singing or see the wildlife out your window. We smile with joy when we’re able to build that snowman with our child.

Unfortunately, many of us are clouded in our judgment until we experience a rock-bottom tragedy. Our daily challenges can be upsetting, but we’re fortunate to not be standing where someone else is standing right now, someone who is grieving, someone who has lost a part of themselves and is struggling with a gaping hole deep in their soul. An unforgettable void that can never be filled, nor replaced.

So try it with me. Stop what you’re doing. Take a step back and try to imagine walking in someone else’s shoes. Someone you may know who has suffered the loss of a loved one. While you may not understand, acknowledge their loss and the road of profound sorrow they must now travel. It’s not easy.

Inhale deeply, absorb some sunshine, and remember there are many others who would be incredibly thankful to be where you are today. Despite it all, you are blessed.

Let us all find perspective when facing struggles that are minuscule in the grand scheme of things and recognize the gifts God has given us. Let’s not take this beautiful life for granted.

This is what it means to give thanks in all circumstances, not being thankful for our grief, but finding gratitude in the midst of it. Gratitude for the breath in our lungs, for the people still beside us, for another sunrise, another chance to make a difference in someone else’s life.

That’s the ripple effect the pastor spoke of. When we choose perspective, when we choose gratitude even through our pain, we create waves that touch lives we may never even know about. We become beacons of hope for others who are watching, wondering if they’ll ever survive their own storms.