Day 1: A Long Way Off

Scripture: Luke 17:12–13

These guys weren’t strolling up to Jesus like, “Hey man, got a second?” They were shouting from the outskirts, the literal edges of society. That place where you get sent when people decide you’re too messy, too contagious, too complicated to deal with. The place you only end up when life has fallen apart in ways you can’t hide anymore.

Some of us know that feeling way too well. We know what it’s like to feel like we don’t belong anywhere. To walk into a room and immediately think, “If these people knew the real me, I’d be out the door.” To feel like we’ve messed up one too many times. To be so bruised or burned-out that the idea of “getting close to Jesus” just feels exhausting.

And here’s the part we usually keep tucked away in the back of our minds—the part we don’t want to admit out loud: Most of the time, it’s not Jesus who feels distant. It’s us deciding we’re not worthy to come near.

We convince ourselves we’re too far gone. We’ve sinned too much. We’ve doubted too much. We’ve numbed out, shut down, or fallen apart too many times. So we do what the lepers did. We stay back. But here’s the difference: They still called out.

They didn’t wait until their skin cleared up. They didn’t wait until they felt spiritually strong. They didn’t fake a smile or rehearse the perfect prayer. They just hollered, "Jesus, have mercy on us!"

It was desperate. It was raw. It was messy. And it was enough.

Because Jesus doesn’t need polished prayers. He doesn’t need your act cleaned up first. He doesn’t need you to “earn” your way close. From way out on the margins, from emotional miles away, He hears the cry.

Jesus heard them. He hears you, too. Even from the outskirts. Even from the distance you created or the distance life shoved you into. And He doesn’t turn away.

Application:

Where in your life right now do you feel “far off”? Name it. Write it down. Say it out loud to God, even if it sounds messy or embarrassing. Your honesty is the starting line, not the finish.

Prayer:

Jesus, I’m calling out from my own “far off” place. Hear me. Help me. Meet me where I actually am, not where I wish I were. Amen.

Day 2: Obeying Before You Feel It

Scripture: Luke 17:14

Jesus gives them this instruction that honestly sounds pretty strange: “Go show yourselves to the priests.” If you or I heard that, we’d be like, “Uh… Jesus? We still look like we crawled out of a quarantine zone. Nothing’s changed yet.”

But back then, this was basically Jesus saying, “Go get checked out. Go get cleared to re-enter life.”

It was the spiritual and social version of getting a doctor’s note that says, “Yep, you’re good. You can actually go home and hug your family again.”

Here’s the thing, though, they weren’t healed yet. Nothing in their bodies had shifted. No tingling, no burning, no dramatic transformation montage. They’re still looking at the same broken skin, the same disease, the same hopeless situation… and Jesus is telling them to move.

He’s asking them to walk before the miracle.

And this, right here, is where so many of us slam on the brakes. We want the healing before the obedience. We want the emotional high before the spiritual discipline. We want the clarity before the surrender. We want God to prove something before we take the step.

And Jesus is like, “Nah. Start walking.” It’s almost like He’s saying, “You obey first… and trust that I’m already working as you move.”

And Scripture says, “As they went, they were cleansed.” Not before. Not immediately. As they went.

Somewhere between point A and point B, God showed up.

Thankfulness works the exact same way.

We treat gratitude like it's something that should just bubble up naturally, like sunshine or good moods or pumpkin spice cravings. But sometimes? Gratitude is a decision, not a feeling. Some days, you choose it long before your heart feels it.

And then slowly, quietly, almost unnoticeably, your heart starts catching up. Sometimes you don’t get thankful and then move closer to Jesus. Sometimes you move toward Jesus and then find thankfulness waiting for you on the path.

Obedience before the miracle. Faithfulness before the feeling. Gratitude before the goosebumps.

Start walking. He’ll meet you in the middle.

Application:

Is there something God’s nudging you to do that you’ve been waiting to “feel ready” for? Today, take one small obedient step, even if your feelings aren’t there yet.

Prayer:

Jesus, give me the courage to move even when I don’t feel it yet. Help me trust You enough to walk the path before I see the outcome. Amen.

Day 3: Close Enough to Touch Him

Scripture: Luke 17:16

Only one guy turns around. Just one. Ten men get their lives back, but only one says, “Wait… I can’t keep walking without going back to the One who made this possible.” And the moment he turns around, everything shifts. He doesn’t jog back and give Jesus a polite handshake. He doesn’t offer a quick “Thanks, man, appreciate it.”

He falls at Jesus’ feet. Face in the dirt. Full surrender. No distance. And don’t forget, this is the same man who, just a few verses earlier, had to yell at Jesus from the outskirts because he wasn’t allowed anywhere near Him. He’s gone from shouting across a field to literally clutching the feet of the Son of God.

What changed? Not just the disease on his skin. Something way deeper, the posture of his heart.

See, this is where we misunderstand thankfulness. We think thankfulness is the Hallmark version of spirituality: polite, polite, polite. “Thanks, Jesus, that was nice.”

But real gratitude? The kind that erupts from the gut? The kind that remembers where you were when Jesus found you? That kind of gratitude will move your feet. It will pull you back toward Jesus even when you’ve wandered off. It’ll take you from “far away” to “right here, at His feet.”

Because thankfulness doesn’t just acknowledge the miracle. Thankfulness drags you straight to the miracle-worker.

Some of us right now feel like God is far, but if we’re honest… maybe Jesus didn’t move. Maybe we just got busy. Distracted. Numb. Comfortable. Maybe we walked right past a hundred everyday mercies and never stopped to say, “Hold up… that was Him.”

And without gratitude, we start running spiritually on empty. Spiritually starving. Wondering why we don’t feel close to Jesus anymore. Gratitude is the thing that pulls us back. Gratitude is the string tied around your heart that tugs you toward Him. Gratitude is the GPS that takes you back to His feet.

You want to feel close to Jesus again? Turn around. Notice what He’s done. Say thank You. Your feet will follow your gratitude every time.

Application:

Before the day ends, stop and thank Jesus for three very specific things He’s done in your life recently, even if they seem small. Let your thankfulness pull you closer.

Prayer:

Jesus, thank You. Thank You for who You are, for what You’ve already done, and for the ways You’ve pulled me close even when I didn’t notice. Draw me closer still. Amen.

You don’t have to fake gratitude or force it. Nobody’s handing out gold stars in heaven for pretending everything’s fine. Gratitude isn’t about slapping a smiley-face sticker on a dumpster fire. It’s way simpler, and way deeper. You just turn back. Again and again. You remember where you were standing when Jesus met you. What you were carrying, what you were running from, how convinced you were that you didn’t belong anywhere near Him. You remember how far away you felt… and how shockingly near He came anyway. Gratitude isn’t a personality trait; it’s a posture. It’s the stance of someone who knows they’ve been rescued.

It’s not about pretending life is easy; it’s about noticing, on your best days and your worst, that Jesus keeps showing up. In the mess. In the waiting. In the places you thought were too broken or too boring for Him to bother with.

And as you move forward, may your thankfulness become the steady rhythm that keeps your feet pointed toward Him. May it be the thing that pulls you out of the weeds and back onto the path. May it remind you that the same Jesus who healed you is still healing you, the same Jesus who saved you is still saving you, and the same Jesus who welcomed you once is still inviting you closer, still saying, “Come on. Walk with Me.”