Ten Thousand Gifts

Dear Daughters,

Six years ago I read the book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. The book was birthed because of a challenge from Ann’s friend to list 1,000 gifts that God had given her, gifts she already had.  Gifts that were around her every day, but she had forgotten to see.  What started as a difficult hunt for gifts turned out to be the most joy-filled assignment Ann had ever received.  In counting gifts –  blessings – she was able to turn from guilt, regrets and shame, while she watched her life transform into gratitude, delight and joy.

As you remember, I also took the challenge to count gifts, naming them one by one.  At the beginning it was easy, fun, and continually kept me on a treasure hunt.  But as my health disintegrated and I had to quit my teaching job, it became more and more difficult to list those gifts because I saw so little for which to be thankful.

Thankfully, Ann also wrote about the Hard Eucharisteo  – (the Greek word for giving thanks) when gratitude is difficult, when life doesn’t go your way, when you can’t understand the evil all around and within you.  During these past six years I have taken breaks from my gratitude journal, but out of necessity started writing again, thanking God for the beautiful but also – with tears – for the darkness, the uncertainty, and the disappointment I was facing.

I have filled six journals over the past six years, over 10,000 spaces filled with gifts from God.  There were days, for months at a time, I didn’t write, couldn’t write – or was it that I refused to be thankful for my heartache on some of those darkest days?  That I refused to believe God loved me and was walking with me through those times?

There were times in the past when I have begged God to let me die, nights when I was tempted to swallow down the whole bottle of Ambien because of the frustration of insomnia during the night and the relentless fatigue during the day.

Thankfully, God said no to my prayer for my life to end.  Through it all Dad was there to stay with me, listen to my wails, sometimes simply sit in silence and love me even though I seemed so unlovable and saw no reason for my continued existence.  His faithfulness and kindness helped to carry me through the months, and later the years of physical weakness.

Eventually, I started giving thanks once again, thankful I could still make meals, wash clothes, see and enjoy beautiful pumpkins in the field, geese flying through the sky, the laughter of children, the encouragement from friends and you – my daughters.

Later though I would dive again into the days filled with shadows, forget to give thanks, the gratitude journal diving to the bottom of my book pile, neither seen nor remembered.

Some days I would read the Psalms, and on the dark days one of my favorites was Psalm 13.  King David, the writer of this and many Psalms was brutally honest with his emotions.  He starts out by saying

How long, O Lord?

Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?…

Yep, that’s exactly how I felt – forgotten and hidden from God.  I had prayed for healing, but it didn’t come.  Day after day I lay on the couch, transferring to bed when darkness fell.  David continues:

…How long must I wrestle with my thoughts,

and every day have sorrow in my heart?

Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death….

 It was comforting for me to know that David, a man after God’s own heart, was also depressed and discouraged at times.  And the amazing part is that God ordained David’s thoughts and emotions to be written, saved and recorded for generations later with which to identify.

During those dark days I loved those verses, feeling quite righteous in my feelings of being forgotten, neglected and abandoned by God.  I could wallow in my pity, figuring that God wouldn’t expect much from me simply because I seemed to be off His radar.

But now and again, I would reluctantly read the last few verses of that Psalm:

…but I trust in your unfailing love;

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me.

There were times I certainly didn’t trust, rejoice or sing because I didn’t believe He had been good to me, I believed the lie that He no longer cared.  I wondered how David could end up singing and trusting even though he had felt abandoned as well.  But if I was going to be honest and believe that the Bible is indeed true, I needed to finish reading that psalm, not just camp out on the verses about gloom and feelings of despair.

I found that if I spoke or sang those words out loud, hope would emerge again.  I would pull out my journal and scribble a few more lines of gratitude.  Joy would multiply – oh so slowly – but it started and I could see the possibility of a future that was good even though it didn’t happen according to my plans.

Here I am today, much better than what I was, yet still not where I would like to be.  Oh well, I will continue to trust in His unfailing love no matter what lies ahead of me.  I have seen His faithfulness in the past and will continue to trust Him for the future.

When your days are dark – sing, perhaps even weep through tears of grief – give thanks and know that He will never leave you nor forsake you.

And that is enough.

Love, Mom