Living Gratefully in the Midst of What We Cannot Control
Gospel Reading
Matthew 13:24-43
NRSV
“He put before them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?” He answered, “An enemy has done this.” The slaves said to him, “Then do you want us to go and gather them?” But he replied, “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.” ’ He put before them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.’ He told them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.’ Jesus told the crowds all these things in parables; without a parable he told them nothing. This was to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet: ‘I will open my mouth to speak in parables; I will proclaim what has been hidden from the foundation of the world.’ Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, ‘Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.’ He answered, ‘The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!”
Living gratefully in the midst of what we cannot control invites a quiet shift in how we see the world. Instead of resisting the unexpected or fearing what arrives uninvited, gratitude helps us meet life with a steadier heart. It softens the edges of uncertainty and allows us to notice the quiet good that continues to grow, even when circumstances feel tangled or unclear. This posture doesn’t remove the challenges we face, but it does change the way we move through them, opening us to a deeper trust in the presence of grace.
There is a moment in Matthew’s Gospel that has always struck me with its quiet honesty, where Jesus speaks of a field sown with good wheat yet, during the night, an enemy scatters weeds among it. The arrival of the weeds is unannounced and unavoidable, reminding us that harmful intentions and destructive forces often enter our lives without warning or permission. Yet Jesus refuses to let the presence of these weeds define the field or diminish the destiny of the wheat. He teaches that the wheat will still grow, the harvest will still come, and the good will still reach its fullness, with the weeds ultimately gathered and removed so the wheat can be collected without limitation. This is where gratitude becomes a transformative lens. Gratitude does not deny the existence of evil; it simply refuses to give it centre stage. When we live from gratitude, our attention shifts away from the weeds and the fear of what was sown in the dark, and toward the quiet endurance of the wheat—the good that continues to grow despite everything. We begin to notice the strength that rises within us when we trust the present moment rather than resist it, and we recognise the subtle ways grace continues to unfold. Jesus lived with this disposition of gratitude, giving thanks for the life the Father had given him and trusting that love was always at work, even in tangled circumstances.
Through my own experience, I’ve discovered that gratitude opens us to clarity, receptivity, and alignment with the movement of love. Circumstances shift, unexpected blessings emerge, and life has a way of offering exactly what we need. The weeds may exist, but they never have the final word; the wheat does, the harvest does, and gratitude keeps us rooted in that enduring truth.