1,000 Gifts

1,000 Gifts book


This book is life-changing. It made me question, cry, reflect, and dig deep. God's grace, eucharisteo, living joyfully in a broken world; all things this weary heart needed to hear, study, remember, and embrace.

What do you do when the first person you met in your dorm freshman year, the one who sat and talked with you for two hours in the laundry room, is dead two months later? The official report says car crash; but to the hurting, confused hearts left behind, the report does not provide anything more than letters strung together to form words. Her chair in math class is painfully and very noticeably empty every Tuesday and Thursday for the rest of the first semester. Not many people show up for the memorial service. It had only been eight weeks since classes began. It takes longer than that to form lasting bonds in college. Seven years later, the freshmen class of 2006 has moved on. Some of us have careers. Some are married and have children. Others are in grad school or living overseas as missionaries. Life went on. Memories faded. I don't remember what major she was planning to choose. I don't remember where she was from. I do remember she had a twin brother and was homesick. In the laundry room that afternoon, we talked about our fears of living on our own for the first time. How does one reconcile the death of a fellow eighteen-year old?

What do you do when you see a woman being held down and beaten senseless by an enraged man, blood pouring from her nose and mouth, both eyes blackened?

What do you do when you watch flames engulf your home, the roof caving in, causing the firefighters to classify it as a total loss? All the possesions, the pictures, baby quilts, piano, everything---reduced to a two-foot high pile of ash.

What do you do when you witness children being abused and neglected; or adults who were abused as children themselves, addicted, stumbling around trying to find their way?

What do you do when you are decorating the Christmas tree and the phone rings, the voice on the other end informing you that a loved one has been in a car accident and might not survive; a family member you had hugged and talked to just seven days ago? The Christmas tree is left half-decorated the rest of the holiday season, a reminder that life is uncertain and can end in the middle, unfinished. The unknown outcome and the pain of the person so terribly injured makes your heart physically ache. The waiting. It is agonizing.

What do you do when long-held plans fall apart? You are left standing at the edge. No clear path. No plan. The person who always has a plan, the organized, rational, be prepared-type, is left floundering, searching, and wondering why.

This is where eucharisteo comes in; that life-filling, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, singing hymns while imprisoned, gratitude. This is not the happiness that naturally comes during the good times; you have a job that pays well, no one is sick, no one has died, and life just sort of rocks along, smooth. Let's be honest, unless people completely shield themselves from the suffering of others, live in a closet, and never come outside to view the world around them, those times of smooth sailing rarely last long. Life is a lesson in learning to live with the joy of the Lord; the full assurance that comes from"...we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28). That doesn't mean we are protected from disappointment and sorrow in this life. Life hurts. It is messy. It rarely goes according to our plans. I am a planner. I cause myself a lot of grief with the attitude that somehow by being a good planner and methodically looking for the answers, I can control my life and make it go exactly where I want. It doesn't work that way. God is teaching me to let go. To trust. To be open to His guidance. To be still. To be patient. To not have a plan for every waking minute of this life. To be okay with not knowing. To have life-filling gratitude in every circumstance, even the ones where I am staring into the darkness and wondering how I will endure.

He refines us with trials by fire. I am still learning and I stumble, a lot. I get frustrated. I get angry. I doubt. Confusion is sometimes the order of the day. I learn to have gratitude, to thank Him for specific struggles; moments of such frustration, sadness, or disappointment, I don't know whether to cry, scream, or run away. Through His grace, we can say thank you for the struggles, challenges, and sorrows that increase our capacity for compassion, understanding, and endurance; a home so neglectful and poverty-stricken, you dump roaches out of your shoes when you leave, a teenager experiencing near-fatal withdrawals from a drug overdose, an infant with a black and blue face caused by a drunken father, a car accident that abruptly ends a life, a divorce that leaves you reeling and questioning whether choosing to be vulnerable and love someone is even worth it these days; the list goes on and on.

Life is not easy, but through the Lord, we are more than conquerors. We can find beauty in the commonplace; embracing the life He has granted. Being free to live. No longer running from the unknown. Not worrying. No longer fearing death.

He's got us covered. 




The following is the ongoing list I keep in a journal; moments of gratitude, 1,000 gifts, the quest for life-filling thankfulness in a broken world.

1) Sunrises--brilliant pink and orange hues fading into lavender

2) Moon rising against God's blue canvas

3) Peanut butter and honey sandwiches

4) Daffodils blooming alongside the road

5) The songs of birds and sounds of life as winter ends and spring begins

6) Hugs from children

7) Newborn calves frolicking in a pasture

8) Driving with the windows down to feel the breeze on a sunshiney day

9) Talking to and hugging a loved one who has been healed

10) Ice cold glass of water

11) Laughing with friends during lunch hour at work

12) Snow-capped mountains

13) Making new friends

14) Sleeping in on a cold, rainy morning

15) British accents

16) The smell of old books

17) Candlelight

18) Kept promises

19) Long phone calls with friends

20) Silences that aren't awkward

21) Honey-Nut Cheerios, Frosted Flakes, and Cap'n Crunch--the cereals of my childhood

22) Antique stores and flea markets

23) Freshly fallen snow, no footprints

24) Crunchy autumn leaves

25) The hills of Tennessee

26) The first swim of the summer

27) Making a stranger smile

28) Fleece blankets

29) Wool socks

30) Handmade quilts

31) Glass baby bottles

32) Attitude adjustments and moments of redirection

33) Water balloon fights
34) York Peppermint Patties
35) Walking arm-in-arm with a friend
36) Apple orchards
37) Eating a fresh peach on a sweltering summer day, juice running down my chin
38) Babies--their tiny toes, giggles, toothless smiles, and precious innocence. To such the kingdom of heaven belongs.
39) Baseball caps, winter hats to ward off frostbite, the extravagant head gear worn by women to the Kentucky Derby, the fedoras and Scottish-style caps worn by men in the 1940s; hats are functional and stylish.
40) Being overrun by a litter of puppies--they yip and tumble and growl and tail wag and love without question.