This has been a really rough week for me, and it is especially times such as this where the discipline of gratitude becomes all the more essential to change the posture of my heart from disgruntled to contentment.

As I have been reflecting on the week and all things sweet, my mind keeps going straight to the cross.  On Sunday, Easter morning, for the first time in ages, I found myself bounding out of bed with a spring in my step, enthusiastically rejoicing over the opportunity to commemorate the empty tomb.  This is the only abiding hope that keeps me plugging away in my brokenness.  It is impossible to express enough gratitude for the grace and mercy of God in my life — all good things are, in fact, of him and from him.

So this week, it feels insufficient to address anything other than being grateful for the Lamb who died and rose again!  Moreover, gratitude for everything else simply points back to the Giver of all good things.