The wheelchair creaked softly against the concrete floor as the pastor’s face lit up with an unexpected joy. Paralyzed from the waist down and recently released from prison in Chhattisgarh, India, he wasn’t sharing a story of bitter injustice or complaints about false accusations. Instead, his eyes sparkled as he spoke about his time behind bars. “Every day in prison was a gift,” he beamed. “Each person I met was an opportunity to share Christ’s love.” Despite facing criminal charges for alleged forced conversions, this pastor had turned his prison cell into a pulpit, his confinement into a mission field.
His courage and joyful disposition are something we sorely need in our nation today, where recent events have left many communities reeling. In Jhansi, fifteen infants lost their lives in a devastating fire. In Sambhal city, a few days ago, communal violence claimed four lives in a dispute over a centuries-old mosque. In Sukma, Chhattisgarh, ten Christian families watched helplessly as angry mobs looted their 80 acres of crops, joining hundreds of others who face persecution for their faith. These reports can be depressing and bleak.
Yet in these dark times, stories of radical thanksgiving break through like sunrise after a long night, showing us what it means to praise God even in life's hardest moments.
Take Father Gleb Yakunin, a Russian Orthodox priest locked away in the notorious Perm 27 labour camp many years ago. When guards allowed him just one possession in his cell, he chose his prayer beads - not for ritual, but for revolution. These thirty-three beads, one for each year of Christ’s life, became his tool for what he called “the morning discipline of thankfulness.” His words cut to the heart: “Human beings have only two options in life. They can exist, or they can flourish. Flourishing has nothing to do with material wealth. You can merely exist as a rich person; you can flourish in prison.”
Pastor Richard Wurmbrand’s testimony rings with even greater power. During 14 years in Communist Romanian prisons, where he endured unimaginable torture - broken bones, carved flesh, and daily brutality - he discovered a profound secret of thanksgiving. “There's always a good reason to rejoice,” he would say. “There is a God in heaven and in the heart. I had a piece of bread this morning. It was so good! Look now; the sun is shining! And so many here love me! Every day you do not rejoice is a day lost!”
When one of his tormentors mockingly asked what his God could do for him now, Wurmbrand’s response was stunning in its grace: “He can forgive you.” Those simple words, spoken from a heart of thanksgiving rather than bitterness, later led to his persecutor’s conversion. Even in his darkest moments, Wurmbrand maintained, “We will respond, even in the face of irony and slander, with the sweetness of love. We can afford to take this attitude because good anvils do not fear the blows of many hammers.”
In 2020, another powerful testimony emerged from India’s Taloja Central Jail. Father Stan Swamy, an 84-year-old Jesuit priest suffering from Parkinson’s disease, found joy even while imprisoned on false charges. Despite being so ill that he needed help to eat and drink, he told his colleagues, “Listening to the life narratives of the poor prisoners is my joy in Taloja prison. I see God in their pains and smiles.” Even in his physical struggles, he maintained an attitude of contentment, crediting his decades of work with India’s poorest communities. “My needs are limited,” he would say. “The adivasis [indigenous people] and the Society of Jesus have taught me to lead a simple life.” Until his last days, he continued to minister to fellow prisoners, turning his suffering into an opportunity to share Christ’s love. Even when denied basic necessities like a sipper cup for his water - a critical need due to his Parkinson's disease - he maintained his spirit of gratitude and service to others.
These stories reach across time to touch hearts today. Whether in Father Stan’s modern-day prison cell or in Paul’s ancient Roman chains, we see the same spirit of defiant thanksgiving. It is a spirit that transforms prison walls into pulpits and suffering into testimony. In each case, these believers discovered what the psalmist meant when he wrote, “I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth” (Psalm 34:1).
For Christians in Sukma today, forced from their homes and watching their crops destroyed, these aren’t just inspiring stories - they're a lifeline of hope. They stand in a long line of believers who have discovered that material loss often leads to spiritual riches beyond measure. Their story connects directly to Jesus’s promise: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10).
The Apostle Paul, writing from his own prison cell, didn't just suggest thanksgiving as a nice idea - he gave it to us as vital medicine for our fears. “Do not be anxious about anything,” he wrote to the Philippians, “but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” These words, written in chains, speak straight to the heart of every believer facing persecution today.
Corrie ten Boom showed us what this looks like in real life. In Ravensbrück concentration camp, she and her sister Betsie thanked God even for the fleas in their barracks - only to discover later that these same fleas kept the guards away, letting them hold secret Bible studies with other prisoners. “Give thanks in all circumstances,” Paul wrote, and ten Boom lived it out in one of history’s darkest places.
This kind of gratitude isn’t about forcing a smile or pretending everything’s fine. Father Yakunin showed us a better way. Each day in his cold cell, he would:
• Start by speaking out eleven reasons why he was glad to be alive in God’s beautiful world
• Speak out eleven reasons Christ is such a wonderful Savior and Lord
• Declare eleven reasons he sees the Holy Spirit working toward God's glory
This practice of intentional thanksgiving has deep biblical roots. When Daniel knew that praying to God had been made illegal, Scripture tells us he continued praying three times a day, giving thanks to God as was his custom (Daniel 6:10). When the early church faced persecution, they responded with prayers of thanksgiving that shook their meeting place (Acts 4:23-31). This isn’t just ancient history – it’s a living legacy that continues in every generation of believers who choose praise over bitterness.
The prophet Habakkuk lived this truth when he declared, “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines... yet I will rejoice in the LORD.” He didn’t deny hard times - he defied them with praise.
As Thanksgiving 2024 approaches, I think of that pastor, my brother, from Chhattisgarh, his wheelchair still creaking against concrete floors, his heart overflowing with thanks for a prison cell that became his mission field. He joins countless others who have discovered that thanksgiving isn’t just a response to blessings - it is a weapon against despair, a tool that transforms us, and a testimony that nothing can shake our hope in Christ.
The peace that follows such thanksgiving, as Paul promises, “transcends all understanding.” It doesn’t come from pretending everything’s fine, but from knowing that Christ holds us secure. Whether in an Indian prison cell, a Romanian labour camp, or a church shelter housing the displaced, thanksgiving turns victims into victors, prisoners into preachers, and our darkest hours into displays of God’s unstoppable glory.
This Thanksgiving season calls us to join this great cloud of witnesses who have discovered thanksgiving’s power to transform any circumstance. As persecution increases in our nation and world, their examples shine brighter. Every “thank you” becomes an act of resistance against despair, every praise a declaration of God’s victory, and every grateful heart a testimony to Christ’s unshakeable kingdom.
