I am so thankful to get to still be serving the Lord through

The words of Jeremy Camp rise with the simplicity and weight of a prayer: “I am so thankful to get to still be serving the Lord through music.” In this utterance, we hear the voice of one who has endured the valleys of sorrow and the trials of life, yet who continues to walk the path of devotion. His thankfulness is not shallow, nor born of ease; it is the deep gratitude of one who has discovered that even amidst hardship, the gift of service remains. To serve the Lord, not in silence but through music, is to join the eternal chorus of those who lift their voices as instruments of faith and hope.

The origin of this sentiment is rooted in Camp’s own life story, a journey marked by both triumph and suffering. He rose into prominence as a Christian musician, but his early path was pierced with tragedy—the loss of his first wife, Melissa, to cancer. Out of such sorrow, lesser men would have abandoned song, yet Jeremy chose to let his pain be transformed into praise. His music became not merely entertainment but testimony, a channel through which his wounds could touch the hearts of others. Thus, when he says he is thankful to still be serving, it is the thanksgiving of one who has seen how fragile the opportunity truly is, and how sacred the calling.

The ancients knew this truth well. King David, the psalmist of Israel, lifted his harp not only in days of victory but in nights of anguish. His songs resounded with both lament and joy, teaching generations that to sing unto the Lord is not dependent upon circumstance, but upon devotion. So too does Jeremy Camp walk in this lineage. Like David, he wields music as a weapon against despair and as a vessel for praise, showing that the heart of worship is not found in perfection but in perseverance.

His words also remind us of the eternal bond between service and gratitude. To serve the Lord is already an honor beyond measure, yet to continue in that service across the shifting seasons of life is a gift many are denied. The voice may weaken, the hands may falter, the road may grow hard—but to still be entrusted with the task of carrying light into the world is to live in grace. Jeremy’s thanksgiving is not simply for the gift of music, but for the chance to use that gift for a higher purpose, to make of it an offering rather than a possession.

In this way, his statement becomes a call to all of us. Each person holds gifts, though not all are the same. Some are given music, some words, some strength, some wisdom. But the truth stands: gifts are not for self-glory but for service. To squander them on vanity is to bury them in the ground; to use them for others, for truth, for God, is to let them shine like a lamp in the darkness. The humility of Camp’s gratitude teaches us that we must never take our talents lightly, nor assume they will always remain. To be able to serve at all is worthy of thanksgiving.

Therefore, let us take practical steps. First, pause daily in gratitude for the abilities you have—no matter how small they may seem. Second, dedicate those abilities not merely to self but to service: use them to encourage, to heal, to inspire. Third, when trials come, resist the urge to silence your gift. Instead, let hardship refine your offering, as fire tempers steel. In this way, your talents will become more than expressions of self—they will become vessels of meaning that endure beyond your own life.

Thus, the wisdom of Jeremy Camp stands as both testimony and command: Be thankful, not merely for the gift, but for the chance to serve with it. For in serving, our gifts find their true purpose, and in gratitude, our service becomes joy. To still be serving is not merely to continue a career—it is to walk faithfully in one’s calling, to carry light through music, word, or deed, until the final note is sung.