only a review: one thousand gifts

today i challenged the girls in my bible study to dig into the book, one thousand gifts.  ann voskamp is the author.  God is the inspiration.  i will simply be the reader.  a humble reader. a grateful reader. a thirsty reader. and an incredible read it is.  my friend, karen, had to write me two separate emails encouraging me to go get the book.  she knew i was meant for it.  though she apologized in her second email for pestering me, something in her knew this book was meant for me.  right now.  right here.  i am so thankful that my friend is not only beautiful and inspiring, but she is a listener and maybe even, on occasion, a pesterer.   she heard something which encouraged her to push me....and she pushed.  and because of this i am now pushing countless other women. this is a book for women to read.  to absorb.  to consider. to treasure.  
i really am not sure what to say about ann voskamp.  she is the mother of six.  she homeschools the entire half dozen.  her husband is an organic farmer of corn and she refers to him in her book as, The Farmer.  i love that.   i laughed out loud at first reading.   i must warn rick, i could easily copy her practice.  how natural it would be for me to over coffee and scrambled eggs refer to my business-minded husband as, The Executive.  i chuckle writing this...i can only imagine his expression and his first thought:  i knew she was on the edge.  i am now quite convinced. poor woman.
so this ann voskamp,  this ann without the sophistication of even an "e" is a writer for the times.  if you haven't heard of her, i am pretty certain you will.     ann lightly weaves together thoughts, ramblings and words about women and the stuff we mess around in. the simple and the substantial.  she addresses the myriad of messy issues which touch the lives of us girls.  it is spirtual.  it is provocative.  it is passionate.  and it is, unquestionably, beautiful.  
late friday night i climbed old and tired into bed with my new and shiny copy.  at 1:35 am rick rolled over and asked what in the world i was doing. 
still reading.  i can't put it down. sorry.
 you can't put it down?
 no.  i can't put it down. 
he rolled back over in his blanket of disbelief.  he knew from experience not to question me any further. he needs to be sharper for this kind of conversation...much sharper than is humanly possible at 1:35 am.
 there is something about this book which compels me.  as i read it, it makes me want to meet her for coffee.  i am pretty sure this farmer's wife, mother of six and inhabitant of ontario canada will not be scheduling coffee with me anytime soon.  but i can't help but wish it.  she gets me.  i get her.  is that weird? perhaps.
so what is the 1000 gifts thing?  what is this?  another list?   it is indeed!  and i get this.  i connect with ann on this exercise of list making.  she explains it as "coaxing the ink out of the pen."  those of you who know me well,  know i am a list maker extraordinaire.   i adore lists - practical and impractical - it matters little. i very much just like the process of lists. the comfort of them.  it is as close to an art form as my mommy-self can get these days.  i take pleasure in carrying around these remnant scratchings.  though i don't pretend to consult them all that often, i find myself completely dependent on their physical presence. their nearness.  maybe it is just the reassurance of having a list in the deep recesses of my pocketbook or tucked in the scribbled pages of my journal or on my blue high-piled desk. sometimes they are desperate acts...urgent dispatches to my muddled mind -  DON'T FORGET to sign this paper, pick up this child, make this appointment, check this rash, deposit this check, cook this meat.   regardless, these lists help me  feel better about things.
but, back to ann.  so she was challenged to write a list of 1000 things for which she was thankful.  a friend made it a dare:  can you?  can you write a list compiling ideas and thoughts and words and images and pictures of things which make you truly grateful?  this is her book.  she is a story teller.  she is a list maker. she is a dream weaver.  she is a poet.  the words tumble out across the page and the reader can't drink them up quickly enough.  at least this reader cannot.  i read them over and over.  i underline them again and again.  i am startled by her phrasing and refreshed by her images.  i am captivated by her keen understanding and i am completely taken with the beauty.  i read with arched eyebrows,  wearing the expression of sheer astonishment.  it is almost unsettling.  but i have to tell you, friend, sometimes we need to be unsettled.  we need a bit of astonishment.  sometimes we need to be swept off our feet by something new and passionate and life-provoking. 
ann's entire premise rests on the theory that we are a joyless people because we are not a truly thankful people.  i couldn't agree more.  i mean we all sit around and offer a general sense of thanksgiving. most of us at some point in our day, in our year, in our life give God or some higher power some mindless and unenergetic thanks.  that sort of just happens.  it was required by our parents and our sunday school teachers. we were taught Give Thanks.  it was expected.   but do we really rejoice?  do we really praise Him for the minute and specific.  do we see His Glory in the common and His Majesty in the everyday?  we thank Him for the morning, but do we thank Him for the morning mist settling across dark pine?  do we thank Him for the morning light streaming through the fingerprinted panes of our dirty child-laden homes?  do we thank Him for the cold morning's hot coffee in our pottery-fired blue mug?  i do not.  i have not.  because of my frazzled and frenzied pace, i, often, cannot.  i want to change that. 
ann mentions in the book we must Learn.  we must Learn a new habit.  the encouraging fact:  we can Learn.  we can Learn to pause and  ponder and appreciate.   we must be intentional and intent and intense in our quest for finding Beauty and Truth and Grace.  it will lead us to JOY.  we are joyless, because we are thankless.  true joy must be preceeded by a truly thankful heart.  oh, sister...friend...stranger...don't you know it?  don't you feel how steeped into this racing, raging, wild rushing world we are?  i do.  i feel it every day.  i have found myself near tears in the past few years longing to sit in the sunshine of my yard but knowing a meeting or an appointment or a thing was waiting expectantly for me.  i get this at a level i cannot express in one mere blog post.  i get it and my guess is that many of you get it too.
some days we will only have a passing minute to notice.  that is life.  ann is the mother of six...i am the mother of five...i can assure you both our lives are busy enough to spin heads.  but, notice We Must.  We Must stop and Take Note.   i was quite young when i heard the phrase "stop and smell the roses" ...i think my wise and gentle grandfather might have first shared those words with  me.  it seemed silly then.  i had balls to chase and boys to chase and dreams to chase.  i am not quite done with my chasing (well, maybe chasing of the boys)...but i am more aware of my need for pausing. 
so, i don't do this justice.   when you read her first few chapters you'll know i barely have scratched the muddy surface of this book.  you'll read the first page and you'll know.  i am okay with that.  i am writing this post to encourage you...even one of you...to read.   i believe i may have actually scared a few of the girls in my study this morning.  at one point, i jumped up out of my seat to read ann's section on photographing shredded cheese.  i couldn't help myself.  my girlfriends are generous.   at the dinner table tonight i shared the book and the list idea with my family.  oh, i wish you could have been a fly on the wall.  arched eyebrows...sideways glances...furrowed brows and squinty eyes all around the table.  after some hmms and some huhs....my husband, The Executive, chimed in, "well...now, kids, this sounds like a good plan.  i am fully in support of mom and her uumm ...idea."   a chain reaction of whiplash occured as the children fixed eyes on their dad.  who was this father of betrayal? exactly what was taking place?  they expected this occasionally from mom...but dad was another story.  i had to laugh.    

tomorrow i will leave them journals - list making journals - i will leave them at their dinner places. and they will glance at their dad.  eyes watching. wondering what next.  i can hardly wait.