Everything I have is the best, because it’s what my Father has given me.

That truth has changed my life. It didn’t come easy, and I didn’t learn it overnight. I often heard that from my father in law. For years, I looked around and compared. I saw what others had: their homes, their ministries, their families, their health, and quietly thought, Lord, why not me? I didn’t say it out loud, but it lived in my heart.

Comparison is a thief. It steals your joy and blinds you to blessings. It leaves you convinced that God has somehow shortchanged you. But He hasn’t.

The day I stopped fighting what I didn’t have and started thanking Him for what I did have was the day peace finally came.

I began to see that every good thing in my life every single one was chosen by my Father’s loving hand. He gave me exactly what I needed, not what I thought I wanted. And if it came from Him, it can’t be second best.

So I’ve made up my mind. I will not complain about where I am. I will not grumble about what I have or don’t have. I will not waste another day wishing I were somewhere else.

Because what I have right now is enough.

I have Jesus.

That alone makes me rich beyond measure.

And I have great joy when I consider what my Father is doing in my life. He is shaping me, stretching me, blessing me, and working through every detail. Nothing is wasted. Every moment, even the hard ones, is full of His purpose. When I slow down long enough to notice, joy begins to overflow.

And with a little work and imagination, anyone can learn to live in that same joy. Gratitude grows when we start looking for what God is already doing. Joy blooms when we choose to see through His eyes instead of our own.

Too often, we only see what we had when it’s gone. We stand at a funeral and finally say the words we should have spoken years before. We look at the empty chair, and suddenly everything that once annoyed us feels so small. We realize how much we had, how deeply we were loved, and it breaks our hearts that we waited too long to say it.

I don’t want to live that way anymore.

I don’t want to wait for a loss to open my eyes to how good my life already is. I want to live grateful now. I want to look at my wife and see her beauty today, not someday when I’m reminiscing about her laughter. I want to tell my children they are a gift, not after they’ve grown up and left home, but while their shoes still sit by the door.

Gratitude changes everything.

When I start giving thanks for what’s right in front of me, joy rises up like fresh air in my lungs. I begin to see God’s fingerprints in ordinary moments: the smell of dinner cooking, the sound of my family laughing, the quiet of early morning when the world feels still and good.

It’s amazing how quickly bitterness dries up when gratitude takes root.

Because the truth is, a complaining heart doesn’t just hurt me, it spills over onto everyone around me. It poisons the atmosphere of my home and robs my family of joy. But when I choose thankfulness, that same atmosphere fills with peace.

There was a time when my prayers all sounded the same:

“God, get me out of this. Move me somewhere better. Fix this situation. Change these people. Change me.”

I didn’t realize it then, but every time I prayed that way, I was calling the very place God had chosen for me “rotten.” I was asking Him to undo His own wisdom.

That kind of prayer flies in the face of trust. It says, “Father, I don’t believe You know what You’re doing.”

But the more I’ve walked with Him, the more I’ve learned that peace doesn’t come from escaping hard places. It comes from believing that my Father is present in them.

If I say, “Lord, get me out of here,” I miss the truth that He’s already here. He’s not waiting for me to reach a better season. He’s living His life through me in this one.

That’s what Paul meant when he wrote, “For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” He wasn’t asking for a change of scenery. He was discovering Christ right where he was in prison, in need, in suffering, and finding that Jesus was enough.

The truth is, if I can’t find peace where I am, I won’t find it anywhere else. Because peace isn’t a place. It’s a Person.

When I rest in that, everything changes. The job that once felt too small becomes holy ground. The home that once felt crowded becomes a sanctuary. The waiting season that once felt endless becomes a classroom where I’m learning grace.

So I’ve stopped asking God to get me out and started asking Him to make me more aware of His presence while I’m in it.

Because wherever He is, life is good.

And He is always here.

Gratitude is the doorway to peace. It’s the secret to joy. It’s the lesson I had to learn the hard way but now that I’ve learned it, I don’t ever want to live another day without it.

So I’ll keep saying it to myself and to anyone who will listen:

Everything I have is the best, because it’s what my Father has given me.

My life is His gift.

My family is His gift.

This moment is His gift.

And I don’t want to wait for a funeral to see it finally.

I want to see it now.

I want to live with open eyes and a thankful heart.

Because when I do, I realize I’ve had the best all along.