Ann Voskamp

How Could I Possibly Be Thankful?

My heart has been heavy approaching this day of Thanksgiving. I’m thinking of the mother facing the holidays for the first time after the tragic loss of her daughter; the family who lost their baby this week; the daughter whose holiday gatherings have been years without her mother and just recently will now be without her father; the wife waking up for her first holiday morning without her husband of over twenty-five years; the woman who lost the anticipation and excitement of her baby’s first Thanksgiving in a miscarriage; a family welcoming a precious new healthy baby but losing the young, beautiful first-time mother. One can’t help but grieve with these who are hurting.

Grief has been known in my family. We’re familiar with the breath it takes out of you, the way it changes you, how it can overwhelm you and make your body feel physically ill. And we know that it never completely goes away. Every birthday, date of death, every milestone moment, and yes, this time of year, each holiday celebrated accompanied with traces of grief.

Someone is missing. How unnatural it feels to keep living life when life no longer feels like the life we knew. How bewildering it is seeing people go about their daily business, not even aware that someone so special, and so significant, is no longer on this earth. How empty it feels sitting down to a table with all our family, except our loved one lost.

After loss, I picture grief taking up a large part of our heart. Through healing, the element of grief becomes smaller and smaller, yet remains. Why?

The Lord uses the sorrow in my heart to believe for His healing, His joy, and His peace for others. These losses grieve me so deeply because I know how I’ve grieved for those I’ve lost. It’s so painful. It hurts. It’s dark. However, my losses fuel my intercession for others who mourn. Romans 12:15 ESV says it’s one of the marks of a true Christian, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”

How has my family been able to be thankful in, through and after tragedy?

It’s difficult to praise God when so much is wrong. It’s a challenge to worship with a heavy hurting heart. However, praise, worship and thanksgiving are vital to healing.

Think about Paul and Silas sitting in prison. What did they do? They began to sing. Sorrow can feel like a prison. The release comes through the worship. Worship shakes the foundation to our grief, doors are swung open and bonds are unfastened. (See Acts 16:25-26).

Worshipping the Lord in our grief is a sacrifice. God honors the sacrifice of worship. Worshipping not because we feel like it, but worshipping because He is worthy. I remember being in church two days after my Dad’s funeral. Imagining his casket at the front of the sanctuary was hindering my worship. I was so grieved. But then we began to sing “Blessed Be Your Name.” Yes, there was pain in the offering, but that is authentic worship. Hebrews 13:15 ESV “Through Him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge His name.”

The act of sacrificing thank offerings to God—even for the bread and cup of cost, for cancer and crucifixion –this prepares the way for God to show us His fullest salvation from bitter, angry, resentful lives and from all sin that estranges us from Him. – One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp

Thankfulness doesn’t negate our grief. Thankfulness brings joy in the grief. How? Thankfulness brings us closer to God and as we are closer to Him we receive of His glorious riches. His light, His love, His joy, His peace.  This isn’t denial. This isn’t fairytale, make-believe. This isn’t lying to ourselves. This is walking, not in the natural tendency of our nature, but in His supernatural power to transform our hearts in His presence. Habakkuk 3:17-18 ““Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.”

Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn’t rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest of Light to all the world. When we lay the soil of our hard lives open to the rain of grace and let joy penetrate our cracked and dry places, let joy soak into our broken skin and deep crevices, life grows. – One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp

I pray for you, sweet readers to be the “change agents.” Our place is not in this world. Our place is destined to be with the Father. In the imperfections of this life we live, I pray for your heart of Thanksgiving to transcend every trial, displaying the light of His glory through your joy.

Much love.

Much sympathy.

Much hope.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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Visit the link for the song: Blessed Be Your Name by Matt Redman http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTpTQ4kBLxA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTpTQ4kBLxA

*If you are waking this day with pain and loss, I invite you to read this touching post my friend shared. https://abedformyheart.com/grateful-and-grieving/ *

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Eucharisteo

I’ve had happier things to write about. Still do. But not today. No, today I’m writing about the mound of dirt and tulips planted by the first tree on our driveway. I’m writing about tears and what-ifs. I’m writing about the constant cries of animal who longs for her companion, her buddy. It was a beautiful weekend in Oklahoma. One not to be missed.  Many were outside enjoying the out of the ordinary warmer temperatures for this time of year. Even our dogs took advantage of an opportunity to run past the barriers of our yard that protect them and head for adventure.

Brandon and I started our Sunday on the road at five in the morning excited to surprise the kids, getting home from that ten hour drive earlier than what they anticipated. A one o’clock phone call informed us of Saturday’s events. “The dogs got out about eleven. Libby came home about ten last night, but we can’t find Daisy,” Brooklyn said on the line.

We knew. We knew Daisy and Libby never split up. We knew Libby coming home alone was indicative of something bad. The visits to neighbors had been made. Phone calls placed. No sign of her. Gone.

This family began the process to accept what was evident. A process that is increasingly difficult when one doesn’t really know what happened.

Yesterday, I utilized social media resources, posting a picture of Daisy and Libby on Instagram, Twitter, and a few different groups on Facebook, including my own page. My words, “We’re fairly certain something bad happened to our sweet Daisy Mae while we were gone this weekend. She went missing Saturday. Libby came home that night. No sign of Daisy still. If anyone may know anything, please, please let us know. It’s the not knowing that is so hard.”

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A lady on one of the Facebook groups commented, “Please message me.” I did. She responded with information we knew in our hearts, but details we needed, “Unfortunately I wanted to tell you I stopped by the road on 51B going east….” She proceeded to inform me that our sweet Daisy Mae was lying there.  That it looked like she was hit.

My husband, who has been busy at work, bringing it home with him several nights a week, spreading it out across our table and working hours after everyone goes to bed, left the office immediately to go get our precious pet. He went to the place nearly two and a half miles from our home and found her. There she was lying on the side of the highway like road-kill. He picked her up, placed her in the truck, brought her home and dug a perfect 3’x5’ rectangle, 4 feet deep grave for our beloved Daisy Mae.

This is where I write about thankfulness. Yes, the topic of the book I’m reading, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. The author takes the reader on a journey of what it is to be truly thankful. To live a life to the fullest. To have eucharisteo. Vos Kamp explains, “Eucharisteo, thanksgiving, envelopes the Greek word for grace, charis. But it also holds its derivative, the Greek word chara, meaning ‘joy.’” She continues, “Deep chara joy is found only at the table of the euCHARisteo- the table of thanksgiving.

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Last night, I crawled into bed, eyes swollen, nose running, tears still falling, and my heart was full of thankfulness for the tool of social media. I hear so many gripe about the effects of social media. The negative results it renders on their lives. But why? Do we let it because of our lack of self-discipline? Nothing should rule over us. I think about the good things God has given us, and yet in our flesh, humanity and sin we distort the beautiful benefit it should bring to our lives. Like sex. God Himself designed the incredibly beautiful gift for us. An act of intimacy, love and security beyond what we share with anyone other than the one we’ve vowed our life to. But what has our culture done? Distorted the pricelessness of the gift.

Last night, I felt the gift of social media. I think on the scripture James 1:17, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” And I believe the resources I had to utilize was a good gift, a perfect gift to bring our Daisy Mae home.

So today, while I put away her bowl and clean her bed, I’ll think about Vos Kamps’ list, about the sunlight hitting the suds, about the smell of clean sheets and the porcelain dove, that bears the word peace hanging in her kitchen window. In the sadness, I’ll have joy, the joy that comes from thankfulness, eucharisteo. Thankfulness to have had Daisy Mae; how she loved to chase skunks but always lost, how we had to feed her pricey dog food otherwise we’d suffer the aroma of consequences, how despite her very quiet nature, Libby had inspired her to just start using her voice.

For these things, I wake this morning, thankful.

We will miss you, Daisy Mae.

We loved you! Thank you, for loving us!

2014.05

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