Psalm 118:24 — Giving Thanks Today
The First Day You Realise You Are Able to Genuinely Thank God
"The Lord has done it this very day; let us rejoice today and be glad."
— Psalm 118:24 (NIV)
Reflection
There are days in grief when thanksgiving feels impossible. The morning comes, but it does not feel like a gift. The light enters the room, but your heart still carries yesterday’s weight. You may know the verse, hear the familiar words, and still wonder how anyone can rejoice “today” when today is the very place where the ache continues.
The open curtains, the sunrise, and the small wooden cross on the windowsill give this verse its proper tenderness. Nothing in the room is loud. Nothing tries to entertain you out of sorrow. The light simply enters. The cross catches it first, quietly, as if the day begins not with your emotional readiness but with God’s mercy standing before you.
Psalm 118:24 does not demand a false smile from the grieving heart. It does not say every day feels good. It says, “The Lord has done it this very day.” The day belongs first to Him before it belongs to your fear, your sorrow, your calendar, your memories, or your dread. That is why rejoicing can begin small, even when grief has not disappeared.
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There will come a first day when gratitude does not feel like betrayal. You still miss who you miss. You still carry what happened. You still have questions. But something in you recognises that God has given this day, and that receiving it does not dishonour the person you lost or the pain you have endured.
Giving thanks today may be no more than opening the curtain, seeing the light, and saying, “Lord, this day is Yours.” That is not shallow. It is a serious act of faith when grief has trained you to expect only darkness. Rejoicing may begin as obedience before it becomes feeling.
Thanksgiving is not betrayal of your grief.
The bright morning room carries the emotional meaning of the verse without denying sorrow. The curtains are open, the sunrise is present, and the wooden cross receives the first light. The room is plain, uncluttered, and still. For someone grieving, this says the day does not have to be perfect to be received from God. The cross in the light teaches the heart to begin again with reverence, not performance.
Biblical Insight
Psalm 118 is a psalm of thanksgiving and victory. It speaks of distress, opposition, rescue, rejection, and the Lord’s steadfast love. The repeated confession is clear: “His love endures forever.” The psalmist has been hard pressed, but not handed over to death. The Lord has acted, saved, and opened the gate of righteousness.
Psalm 118:24 sits within that larger movement. “The Lord has done it this very day” points to a decisive act of God. The day is not treated as neutral. It is marked by the Lord’s saving work. The call to rejoice is rooted in what God has done, not in shallow optimism or personal comfort.
This matters because the verse is often quoted as if it simply means, “Have a nice day.” That is too thin. Psalm 118 is not light decoration for a pleasant morning. It is thanksgiving after pressure, danger, rejection, and rescue. The joy is not detached from suffering; it rises in the face of what the Lord has done.
Christians also hear this psalm with deeper significance because the rejected stone becoming the cornerstone is applied to Christ in the New Testament. The Lord’s saving act reaches its fullness in Jesus, the rejected and crucified Messiah whom God raised and made the cornerstone. That means Christian rejoicing rests not on the emotional quality of the day but on the finished work and living reign of Christ.
The verse does not promise that every day will feel joyful. It does not command a grieving person to deny sorrow, suppress tears, or rush emotional recovery. Scripture makes room for lament, anguish, waiting, and weakness. The same Bible that says, “Let us rejoice today and be glad” also gives words to those who feel forgotten, broken, afraid, and overwhelmed.
But Psalm 118:24 does confront the belief that grief has the right to define the whole day. It does not. Loss may shape today. Pain may visit today. Memories may ache today. But if the Lord has made this day, then grief is not its owner. The day still stands under God’s authority, mercy, and presence.
For a grieving Christian, that distinction matters. You may not be able to rejoice in your circumstances. You may not be able to feel glad about what has happened. But you may be able to rejoice that the Lord remains Lord today. You may be able to receive one mercy, one breath, one light through the window, one act of help, one remembered truth, one small sign that you are still being held by God.
Thanksgiving in grief often begins very small. It may not sound like singing. It may sound like an honest sentence spoken through tears: “Lord, You have given me this day. Help me receive it.” That kind of prayer honours both the pain and the Giver. It refuses false cheerfulness, but it also refuses to let sorrow become the only voice in the room.
Psalm 118:24 matters because it calls the heart back to this very day. Not the old day you want back. Not the future day you fear. Not the imagined day when everything feels easier. This day. The one before you. The one God has made. The one where the cross still stands in the morning light.
In Application
- Name one part of today you can receive from God without pretending grief has vanished.
- Let thanksgiving begin small: light, breath, shelter, Scripture, food, help, memory, or endurance.
- Refuse to treat gladness as betrayal; receiving today does not dishonour what you lost.
- Anchor rejoicing in what the Lord has done, not in whether your emotions feel settled.
Practical Journaling
Reflect on Psalm 118:24, then write honestly:
- What makes it difficult for me to receive this day as something the Lord has made?
- Where do I fear that gratitude might dishonour my grief or the person I miss?
- What small mercy can I honestly name today without forcing myself to feel cheerful?
- How does the cross in the morning light change the way I look at this particular day?
If writing feels too heavy today, open the curtain and pray, “Lord, help me receive this day from You.”
The Faith Recovery Journal explores this and many similar topics.