For what I have received may the Lord make me truly thankful.

Hear the solemn words of Storm Jameson: “For what I have received may the Lord make me truly thankful. And more truly for what I have not received.” At first, the ear hears a simple prayer of gratitude. Yet upon deeper reflection, the spirit recognizes a teaching of profound weight: that thankfulness must not be bound only to what we gain, but also to what we are spared, to what life withholds from us in its mysterious wisdom. For the blessings of abundance are obvious, but the blessings of restraint, though hidden, are no less sacred.

The origin of this saying flows from the tension of human desire. Men and women are quick to rejoice in gifts received—wealth, love, success—but slow to see the mercy in unanswered prayers. Yet Jameson points us to a higher understanding: that sometimes the greatest blessings are the things denied to us, for they might have led us astray, broken our spirit, or turned our hearts from what is true. It is a wisdom akin to that of the ancients, who knew that the gods in their foresight often protect mortals by withholding what they most crave.

Consider the story of King Midas. He prayed that all he touched might turn to gold, and his prayer was granted. But soon he found that this golden gift was a curse, for even the food upon his lips and the daughter he embraced turned lifeless in his hands. Here lies the truth of Jameson’s words: to be thankful for what we have not received is to recognize that not every desire, if fulfilled, would be for our good. Restraint, though bitter to the longing heart, may be the very thing that preserves our life and soul.

Her words also teach the discipline of humility. For gratitude for what is denied is not natural—it must be learned. The untrained heart cries out in bitterness for doors closed and roads untraveled. But the wise heart bows its head and says, “This too is mercy. This too is a blessing.” To reach such understanding is to walk the path of true spiritual maturity, where trust in the divine will overcomes the narrow vision of human desire.

There is also in this saying the lesson of contentment. To be thankful only for what we receive is to live a half-gratitude, forever longing for what was withheld. But to be thankful also for what we did not receive is to live in peace, for then both gain and loss, both abundance and emptiness, are seen as gifts. In this way, every turn of fortune becomes a teacher, and every denial becomes a guide toward a truer destiny.

What lesson, then, must we carry from Jameson’s wisdom? That life is not measured by how many of our desires are granted, but by how well we receive both the gifts given and the gifts withheld. To rejoice only in abundance is shallow; to rejoice even in restraint is divine. Gratitude without condition is the highest form of thanksgiving, for it places trust not in the shifting winds of fortune, but in the wisdom of a higher will.

Practical actions flow from this teaching. When you receive, give thanks with humility, acknowledging that every gift is undeserved grace. When you are denied, pause before bitterness arises, and ask: what unseen mercy might lie in this denial? Train your heart to see not only what is present, but also what has been withheld, and to trust that both are for your good. Share this wisdom with others, so that in their losses they may find peace, and in their emptiness they may find meaning.

Thus, let Storm Jameson’s words be remembered: be thankful for what is given, and even more thankful for what is withheld. For the path of wisdom is not in having all we desire, but in trusting that what we have, and what we do not have, together form the perfect portion of our lives. To live in such gratitude is to walk in peace, to endure with strength, and to carry within one’s soul the eternal light of contentment.