One Thousand Gifts
I've never been in a book club. I also hadn't thought about reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I'm not entirely sure why being an avid reader. So when some friends invited me to their book club, at first I forgot. I'm pregnant, Hubby in a Masters. Thankfully my phone continued to chime at every Facebook message update regarding the book club. I figured it was out of the question Monday since after all I didn't have the book.
It is amazing what our spirits choose to fight against. No reason to it at all.
Then Hubby gave me a gift. A Kindle. My first thought and first action was of One Thousand Gift and now my spirit or mind or whatever it was finally jumped on board. Ann Voskamp's book was the first one I bought.
I began to read. My spirit again resisted her words, some part of my heart maybe not wanting to feel, content to stay closed and ignored.
It is amazing what our spirits choose to fight against. No reason to it at all.
Then I found myself walking along the dirt road, the journey Ann has taken. Then I found her words opening my eyes to the miraculous blessings, the amazing events that take place every single day.
Holding my daughter content to have her back scratched for the hundredth time.
Finally conquering the loads upon loads of laundry taking over my bed.
Watching my twenty tomato plants reach for the sky tied to plastic forks, tied by pink yarn once purchased for a wedding hanger I meant to make seven years ago.
A loaf of bread cooling on my kitchen counter.
Dishes in the sink waiting to go in a working dish washer.
A day that was mine, a gift, a blessing, a bit of clay I molded.
I soaked it in and realized once again, the radical life for Christ I am always yearning to live, I am living, I am in it, one back scratch, one load of laundry, one dirty dish at a time.
Because when I choose to do these things for God, they are radical. As Ann points out, they are eucharisteo, a grace, a joy, a seeking to worship God by being joyful at the work of my hands.
When it was all said and done, I went on a walk.
Past the wreath with tiny .99 cent flowers.
to admire the freshly spray painted pots and pansies gifted to me by a friend
to witness Daffodils praying
to realize the dead tree in my back yard wasn't really dead after all.
It is amazing what our spirits choose to fight against. No reason to it at all.
Then Hubby gave me a gift. A Kindle. My first thought and first action was of One Thousand Gift and now my spirit or mind or whatever it was finally jumped on board. Ann Voskamp's book was the first one I bought.
I began to read. My spirit again resisted her words, some part of my heart maybe not wanting to feel, content to stay closed and ignored.
It is amazing what our spirits choose to fight against. No reason to it at all.
Then I found myself walking along the dirt road, the journey Ann has taken. Then I found her words opening my eyes to the miraculous blessings, the amazing events that take place every single day.
Holding my daughter content to have her back scratched for the hundredth time.
Finally conquering the loads upon loads of laundry taking over my bed.
Watching my twenty tomato plants reach for the sky tied to plastic forks, tied by pink yarn once purchased for a wedding hanger I meant to make seven years ago.
A loaf of bread cooling on my kitchen counter.
Dishes in the sink waiting to go in a working dish washer.
A day that was mine, a gift, a blessing, a bit of clay I molded.
I soaked it in and realized once again, the radical life for Christ I am always yearning to live, I am living, I am in it, one back scratch, one load of laundry, one dirty dish at a time.
Because when I choose to do these things for God, they are radical. As Ann points out, they are eucharisteo, a grace, a joy, a seeking to worship God by being joyful at the work of my hands.
When it was all said and done, I went on a walk.
Past the wreath with tiny .99 cent flowers.
to admire the freshly spray painted pots and pansies gifted to me by a friend
to witness Daffodils praying
to realize the dead tree in my back yard wasn't really dead after all.And low and behold the dry spot in my spirit wasn't either, resistant yes, dead no. My heart quickens to think that this place that once knew so much life, that is beginning to receive the rain again will one day know an abundance of life.
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