Tag: Ann Voskamp (Page 1 of 2)

“Out the kitchen window the sky rolls out. Apple blossoms fill all the orchard. The morning dove warms her bluing hope. I can hear Him, what He is telling the whole world and even me here: this is for you. The lover’s smile in the morning, the child’s laughter down the slide, the elder’s eyes at the eventide: this is for you. And the earth under your feet, the rain over your face upturned, the stars spinning all round you in the brazen glory: this is for you, you, you. These are for you – gifts – these are for you – grace – these are for you – God, so count the ways He loves, a thousand, more, never stop, that when you wake in the morning you can’t help turn humbly to the east, unfold your hand to the heavens, and though you tremble and though you wonder, though the world is ugly, it is beautiful, and you can slow and you can trust and you can receive each moment as grace.”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010

“Why not let all of life be penetrated by grace, gratitude, joy? This is the only way to welcome the Kingdom of God.”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010

“Communion with God, what was broken in the Garden, this is wholly restored when I want the God-communion more than I want the world-consumption.”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010

“Endless thanksgiving, eucharisteo, had opened me to this, the way of the fullest life. From initial union to intimate communion – it isn’t exclusively the domain of the monastics and ascetics, pastors and missionaries, but I, domestic scrubber of potatoes, sister to Brother Lawrence, could I have unbroken communion, fullest life with fullest God?”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010

“I board [the airplane], breathe, buckle, bow my head, and murmur thanks to Him who never takes leave. It’s impossible to give thanks and simultaneously feel fear. This is the anti-anxiety medicine I try to lay in my wide-open palm every day. Thank you, God, for surprising songs.”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010

“When the laundry is for the dozen arms of children or the dozen legs, it’s true, I think I’m due some appreciation. So comes a storm of trouble and lightning strikes joy. But when Christ is at the center, when dishes, laundry, work, is my song of thanks to Him, joy rains.”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010

“I stand for a moment by the table, looking out a wet window to the south. One comes now, a son with his hood pulled up against early morning rain. I watch him, love of ours, meandering up the back walk. His head is bent low, feet finding all the puddles. He’s splashing through ancient water, water from the beginning that has cycled through all centuries, puddle-jumped by a thousand young boys through the ages and I wonder if the water Adam knew falls here.”

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, 2010