In Which I Write Like Ann Voskamp – in my own way

by willeya

have you heard of ann voskamp?  she wrote the book 1000 gifts and writes on her blog daily.  she’s not the type of person i am normally drawn to.  she writes hallmark cards, for one.  her writing smells like pink roses – i’m more of a sunflower girl myself.  and i’m fairly certain she plays yanni [the man with stringy long hair, rolled up pants, and a white button up opened to his abs, playing the piano in a lake] on her blog.  um, no.

ok i’m somewhat underselling her.  she weaves a web of words so vivid that you actually get caught in her point. 

but what REALLY gets me are the points themselves. this woman has hit gold:

If God isn’t indebted to me — but I am indebted to God — then isn’t everything an astonishing gift?

Stubbornly pray for your enemies till you see enemies are illusions and everyone is a friend and somehow grace.

This parenting gig’s an experiment in radical grace and the work of every parent is to fully give to the child. And it’s the work of every child to fully forgive the parents. This is how it turns, the torch passing from one to the next.

I will never stop loving and letting you go. A mother and child live the first great love story and there is no love story without loss, and this is always gain.

The way to experience a moment of unlimited elation — is to take a moment to imagine unexpected limitation.  Close your eyes long and imagine days without sight. And you open them to a brighter light. Imagine no water. And the next cold glass quenches like desert rain. Envision life without the loveliness of those you love — and you see how much you love.

 Contentment isn’t a state of organization, a weight on the scale, a state of better: better kids, better marriage, better health, better house. Contentment is never a matter of circumstances; contentment is always a state of communion — a daily embracing of God.

all of her thoughts go like this.  she really only has one thing to say: “all is grace”. count and be thankful everyday and you will see the grace that was in front of you all along.  the baby’s 5 am cries, the piled dishes, the frantic lists, the tight budget, the tired relationship, the long winter…’s all transformed before your eyes.  

when i read her my spirit says “yes, stay here”.  make this home.  think like this.  and in your own way,

write like this too. 

if all is grace, then what is grace?

– my baby teething and waking every hour.  his feather soft fingers on my skin just like when he was nursing.  his lifting his face to mine to make it all better. mine bending low to fit the dip of my nose – between my eyes – to his.  being puzzle pieces in the night.

– the way my life just got twice as busy with work. the way it makes my heart miss atticus so much that i drop what i’m doing to eat plastic hot dogs on the kitchen floor.

–  this messy messy house and the peace i am making with it.  underneath it all, it’s a beautiful place to be.  and i’m learning to read the lines of dust as saying that we put first things first.  reading and dreaming and loving and playing and being are first.

– the morning sun that pours into our room, making waking gentle.

really good music.

– time alone in the car.

really good music alone in the car.

– that painful relationship and the words that come with it.  without it i would never know what i lack.

– my curly hair that when i wear short it looks like an afro.

– calling my parents, talking deep and shallow all in five seconds.

– avocados.


{when i think write like this}