Tuesday, October 11, 2011
"Deep calls to deep, at the rush of your waterfalls." - David (context is perhaps drowning, but we always take it as something beautiful)
I've been reading Ann Voskamp's book again 1000 Gifts. I try to hide the actual book when I'm out in public since it has a pink, bage and purple cover with a woman holding a nest with baby blue eggs (it might as well have been embroidered in lace. In fact it's probably the girliest book I've ever seen). But it is a book that's changing my life. Or rather, God's changing my life through this book.
Ingratitude permeates my soul like poison coursing through my veins (I say this on faith as I've never been poisoned, although I've eaten a lot of McDonalds). Ann Voskamp's major premise is that the key to living the Christian life, the full life, the life of joy and peace all those apostles sputtered on and on about is having thankful hearts to God.
It sounds way too simple. But for anyone who's tried thankfulness, it can be much harder than it seems. And Voskamp is emphatic here, we can't have the plastered on "thanks in all things" that is no more than a forced smile and gritted teeth. The thanksgiving that she talks about is thanks that soothes our soul and helps us see God in all things.
This sort of thankfulness takes practise. And while it seems cheesy, I've begun a gratitude journal, recording all the things I'm thankful for, be them ever so seemingly small and seemingly insignificant.
In doing so, I'm shattered by how much I drift through life dead. Dead to the beauty and gifts of God. Dead to his love song. Dead to his creation. Dead to his hand of provision and gifts. I live dead.
May God forgive me for this betrayal. I know he does. His forgiveness and patience is yet another gift.
So I was thinking last night, as I watched a video on our little Flip camcorder of Teya, David and me at the beach. Melissa was interviewing us, getting little snippets over the powerful rush of waves, asking us what we liked about the beach. Teya said she liked the getting tumbled in the waves. David yelled something incoherent. And I said this (and it surprises me with it's significance), "I knew they'd like the beach, but not this much. Not this much." I shook my head in disbelief, as I looked out over the crashing waters (I looked so cool by the way. It could have totally been in a movie).
The reason my comment has significance for me is that I think it's how God delights over us. Perhaps he shakes his head in disbelieving satisfaction when he sees us revelling in his gifts.
Perhaps this is the greatest gift of all. God shaking his head in delight as we revel in his goodness. Even and perhaps especially in those hard hard times.