There you are… with nine other lepers.
What a terrible disease. First the loss of feeling, then the loss of hair, feet, hands, nose, even your sight. Your own family treats you like a stranger, a monster. You live on the mercy of others, calling out “Unclean, unclean,” to warn people away.

What misery. Yet misery loves company. Thank God for these fellow lepers—you can at least suffer together, comfort one another, maybe even joke through your pain.

One day, as you sit by the road that leads from Galilee to Jerusalem, a stranger approaches. Someone whispers, “That’s the Rabbi—Jesus. I’ve heard He’s a healer.”
And suddenly, hope awakens.

Together you shout:
“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

He stops, looks at you with compassion, and says only this:
“Go, show yourselves to the priests.”

You know what that means—the priest alone can declare a leper clean. So you go, hearts pounding. And as you walk… something happens. Strength returns. The sores disappear. You are whole again!

You can barely believe it. You laugh, you cry, you hug each other. You dream of going home, of holding your family once more. You hurry toward Jerusalem.

But then—one of you turns around. A Samaritan. He runs back to Jesus, falls on his knees, and says, “Thank you, Lord.”
And Jesus says, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Has only this foreigner returned to give thanks?”

My brothers and sisters, it’s easy to see ourselves among the nine.
We receive blessings—health restored, prayers answered, problems solved—and move on with life. Gratitude fades. We forget the Giver.

Have you ever found yourself there?
Have you ever forgotten to say, “Thank you”?

Years ago, The Houston Chronicle told of a woman named Mrs. Roy Alvarez.
Her ten-year-old son was caught in a riptide. He could not swim. As she screamed for help, a Boy Scout tried to rescue him but began to drown himself. Then an unknown man—fully clothed—rushed into the surf, fought the waves, and saved the boy.

Bleeding and exhausted, he handed the boy back to his mother and disappeared. The next day, Mrs. Alvarez called the newspaper and said, “Please tell that man how grateful we are. We didn’t even get his name. Thank him for giving me back my son.”

Her heart was full—but in the chaos, she never got to say “Thank you.”

Maybe that’s how some of those healed lepers felt. Overwhelmed with joy, they forgot the One who made it all possible.

Saying “thank you” is a sign of character.
It shows humility—the recognition that we didn’t do it all ourselves.

I think of baseball pitcher Steve Carlton. After a losing season, he asked his team to reduce his salary. Imagine that! He was grateful for the chance to play. Gratitude reveals integrity—it tells the world what kind of person we are.

When the Samaritan returned, Jesus saw not just a healed body, but a healed heart. “Your faith has made you well,” He said. Gratitude and faith go hand in hand.

Gratitude not only reveals our character—it builds it.

Warden Lewis Lawes of Sing Sing Prison once said that the reforms in that harsh prison began with his wife, Kathryn. She treated inmates as human beings, teaching a blind prisoner Braille and learning sign language to speak with a deaf-mute.

When she died in a car accident, hundreds of prisoners crowded at the gate. The acting warden opened it and said, “I’m trusting you, boys. You may go to pay your respects.” That night, every single man returned to prison.

Gratitude changed them—it made them better.
So it is with us. When we live in thankfulness, our hearts grow more compassionate, more faithful, more human.

And finally, gratitude keeps a channel of love open—between us and others, and between us and God.

When we thank someone, we are saying: “This relationship matters to me.”
When we thank God, we are saying: “I remember You. I still depend on You. I still love You.”

There’s a story of a man who planted a “century plant” by a rented seaside cottage. His son asked, “Why are you planting something that won’t bloom for 20 years? We won’t even be here next summer!”
The father said, “Someone planted one for me 20 years ago, and I enjoyed its beauty. Now it’s my turn to plant one for someone else.”

That’s gratitude made visible—passing on the blessing.

Only one leper returned to say thank you.
Only one recognized that healing was not just about the body—it was about the heart.

Gratitude is a sign of character.
It strengthens our soul.
It keeps love alive.

So, brothers and sisters, whom do you need to thank today?
A friend? A parent? A spouse?
Or maybe God Himself—for a blessing you once took for granted?

Don’t be among the nine who forgot.
Be the one who returned.
Be the one who said, “Thank you, Lord.”