Psalm 107 keeps circling back to one simple invitation: that those who have tasted God’s rescue would respond with thankful hearts. Today’s verse calls us to see His loyal love and His mighty works in our lives and not let them pass by unnoticed. Gratitude is not just polite response; it is the fitting echo of a heart that has seen God move. When we remember who He is and what He has done, thanksgiving stops being a holiday theme and becomes the posture of our whole life.

Remembering the Rescue

Psalm 107 paints one rescue scene after another—wanderers in deserts, prisoners in chains, fools in their own rebellion, sailors in terrifying storms—and after every story comes the same refrain: “Let them give thanks to the LORD for His loving devotion and His wonders to the sons of men” (Psalm 107:8). God wants His people to connect the dots between their survival and His steadfast love. We are not “just lucky.” We are preserved, upheld, and restored by a God whose covenant love does not let go. Lamentations echoes this: “Because of the loving devotion of the LORD we are not consumed, for His mercies never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!” (Lamentations 3:22–23).

If you look back over your own story, you can find your face in Psalm 107. There were seasons when you wandered, and God quietly guided you home. Times you sat in self-made prisons of sin or bitterness, and He broke chains you couldn’t budge. Moments when the storm should have sunk you, but somehow, you’re still here. Ephesians says, “But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ, even when we were dead in our trespasses. It is by grace you have been saved!” (Ephesians 2:4–5). To remember the rescue is to confess: “I am here by mercy,” and that confession naturally blooms into thanks.

Learning the Language of Thanks

Thanksgiving is more than a feeling; it is a language we learn to speak in every season. Psalm 107:8 doesn’t wait for perfect circumstances; it calls people to give thanks right in the shadow of what they’ve just come through. “Give thanks in every circumstance, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). That doesn’t mean we pretend pain is pleasant. It means that in pain, we still acknowledge, “God, You are good. You are at work. You have not abandoned me.” Thankfulness names God’s character even when we don’t yet see the full picture of His plan.

This language of thanks also re-trains how we see everyday life. James tells us, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow” (James 1:17). A meal on the table, a friend’s text at the right time, a quiet conviction that pulls us back from sin—these are “wonders to the sons of men” wrapped in ordinary packaging. When we start saying, “Father, that was from You,” throughout the day, thanksgiving stops being an occasional prayer and becomes our native tongue. Gratitude then is not forced; it is simply telling the truth about how generous God really is.

Living as a Testimony of Wonder

Psalm 107 is not a private journal; it’s a public testimony. God rescues, and then He calls His people to respond with thanks that can be seen and heard. “Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!” (Psalm 34:8). When we give thanks openly—for forgiveness, for deliverance, for daily bread—we invite others to taste and see that goodness for themselves. Our gratitude becomes a spotlight pointing away from our strength and squarely onto His grace.

This is why the enemy works so hard to keep us grumbling, distracted, and self-sufficient. Complaining hides God’s wonders; thanksgiving reveals them. Colossians urges us, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him” (Colossians 3:17). A thankful believer stands out in a bitter world, not because life is easier, but because the Lord is clearly greater than the troubles. As you move through today, let your words, your demeanor, and your choices quietly preach: “He has done great things for me, and I will not be silent about it.”

Lord, thank You for Your loving devotion and the wonders You have done in my life. By Your Spirit, help me remember Your rescue, speak the language of thanks, and live today as a clear testimony to Your goodness.

We may need to look closely to discover the relation between inflation and unbelief, but such a relation does nevertheless exist. The man of faith is so sure of his position before God that he can quietly allow himself to be overlooked, discredited, deflated, without a tremor of anxiety. He is willing to wait out God's own good time and let the wisdom of the future judgment reveal his true size and worth. The man of unbelief dare not do this. He is so unsure of himself that he demands immediate and visible proof of his success. His deep unbelief must have the support of present judgment. He looks eagerly for evidence to assure him that he is indeed somebody. And of course this hunger for present approval throws him open to the temptation to inflate his work for the sake of appearances.

This need for external support for our sagging faith accounts for the introduction into religious activities of that welter of shoddy claptrap that has become the characteristic mark of modern Christianity. The church and the minister must make a showing, and nothing would seem to be ruled out that will add to the illusion of success. At the root of this is plain unbelief. Religious people are simply not willing to wait till the Lord comes to receive their reward. They demand it now, and they get it, a circumstance over which they will shed bitter tears in the day of Christ.

Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the Cross, despising the shame, and hath sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. - Hebrews 12:2

It is finished! - John 19:30

The disciples’ vision of their ascended Lord expresses absolute repose after sore conflict. It is the same thought which is expressed in those solemn Egyptian colossal statues of deified conquerors, elevated to mysterious union with the god, and yet men still, sitting before their temples in perfect stillness, with the mighty hands lying quiet on the restful limbs; with calm, faces out of which toil and passion and change seem to have melted, gazing out with open eyes as over a silent prostrate world. So, with the Cross behind, with all the agony and weariness of the arena, the dust and the blood of the struggle left beneath, He "sitteth at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty." The rest of the Christ after His Cross is parallel with, and carries the same meaning as, the rest of God after the Creation. Why do we read "He rested on the seventh day from all His works"? Did the Creative Arm grow weary? Was there toil for the Divine nature in the making of a universe? Doth He not speak and it is done? Is not the calm, effortless forth-putting of His will the cause and the means of Creation? Does any shadow of weariness steal over that life which lives and is not exhausted? Does the bush consume in burning? Surely not. He rested from His works, not because He needed to recuperate strength after action by repose, but because the works were perfect; and in sign and token that His ideal was accomplished, and that no more was needed to be done. And, in like manner, the Christ rests after His Cross, not because He needed repose even after that terrible effort, and was panting after His race, and so had to sit there to recover, but in token that His work was finished and perfected; that all which He had come to do was done; and in token, likewise, that the Father, too, beheld and accepted the finished work. Therefore, the session of Christ at the right hand of God is the proclamation from the Heaven of what He shouted with His last dying breath upon the Cross: "It is finished! " It is the declaration that the world has had all done for it that Heaven can do for it. It is the declaration that all which is needed for the regeneration of humanity has been lodged in the very heart of the race, and that henceforward all that is required is the evolving and the development of the consequences of that perfect work which Christ offered upon the Cross. So, the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews contrasts the priests who stood "daily ministering and offering oftentimes the same sacrifices" which "can never take away sin," with the fact that "this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down at the right hand of God "; testifying thereby that His Cross is the complete, sufficient, perpetual atonement and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. So we have to look back to that past as interpreted by this present, to that Cross as commented upon by this Throne, and to see in it the perfect work which any human soul may grasp, and which all human souls need, for their acceptance and forgiveness.