Almost every year our family plants a garden. A for real, grow-stuff-that-you-eat garden. We gathered seeds for tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and a few other things, we till the patch of soil, we repair the critter fence around the area that had fallen into disrepair, we dig holes, plant seeds, and then wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Almost every day since that initial planting I wake up in the morning and check the garden. And nothing. Nothing for weeks. Until one day there is the smallest, green chute coming out of the ground. And we watch that little green chute, being careful to water it but not too much, fighting off the weeds that try to grow around it, until it eventually bears fruit (or vegetables, in this case). From the time we begin to plant until the day we eat the first tomato is usually around 3 months. Not a terribly long time in the grand scheme of things, but pretty long when you’re watching a clump of dirt everyday.

Apparently, this is called cultivation – it’s the act of preparing, promoting, developing or promoting the growth of someone or something, and it takes time. And intentionality. And effort. That’s true of you’re cultivating tomato plants, but it’s also true if you want to cultivate a characteristic in your life. Like gratitude, for example.

When I think of gratitude, I don’t want my life to only have brief spurts of thanksgiving; I want to actually be grateful. For the plant of thanksgiving to have grown up all over my heart and soul so that I live and breathe gratitude. It emanates from the core of who I am. But if this, by the Spirit and grace of God, can actually be cultivated in our lives, what active steps can we take toward that end? Here are three such actions:

1. Remember what you deserve.

It strikes me that the moments when I am the most ungrateful are also the moments in which I feel the most entitled. That I deserve something better than the situation or circumstance in which I currently find myself. But that sense of entitlement is a lie. It’s not a lie in the sense that I’m not entitled to something; it’s a lie in the sense that I often forget what I am actually entitled to.

That is hell. Separation. Condemnation. Eternal punishment. This is what I truly deserve. If I want to cultivate gratitude in my life, then a healthy dose of remembering what I am actually entitled to should go a long way.

2. Remember what you have.

It also strikes me that other moments with I am ungrateful stem from the fact that I am caught in comparing myself to others. I look at the bank account, the physical stature, the intelligence, the wit, the influence of another and an so caught up in my own covetousness that I simply don’t have any room the be grateful. It’s in those moments that I can reflect back on what I truly have. And what do I have?

A beautiful wife? Wonderful children? Fulfilling vocation? Church that I love and loves me? Yes to all the above. But over and above that, I have every spiritual blessing in the heavens (Eph. 1:3). Every. Single. One. In Christ, God has held nothing back from me. By the virtue of His sacrifice on the cross, I am a co-heir with Jesus, and my inheritance in Him has already been secured. This is what I have. Right now.

3. Remember what was paid.

And here we come to the meat of it all. For me, and for you, if indeed you are a Christian, a great and terrible price has been paid. We were not brought out of darkness and into the light, rescued from our empty way of life by silver or gold; no – it was by something much more valuable. The precious blood of Jesus was shed on our behalf (1 Peter 1:18-21). Jesus was given for our sake; only a price this high could atone for our sin so great.

The cross of Jesus – the price that was paid – is like water to the parched ground of our ungrateful hearts. We pour it on as we fix our eyes on Him, and watch gratitude start to sprout up. Slowly, but steadily, we can cultivate hearts by God’s grace that are no longer entitled, no longer covetous, and burning white hot for the glory of the Lamb that was slain.