For the first time in what feels like
forever, my heart is quiet. My head is not spinning. My mind is at ease.
Creating this room for silence was relatively simple.
Deactivate Facebook. Unsubscribe to the plethora of emails that bombard me
daily with this deal and that fashion advice. Remove some apps from my phone. Remove
some obligations from my calendar.
Today is my day off work and I am up before noon. This is
different than how I have been…hiding under the covers until half the day is
gone. No, today is different. It is good. Something has been ignited inside me.
It started as a dissatisfaction, a gnawing for more. More what, I did not know.
Certainly not more possessions. I am up to my ears in STUFF. I have been
working diligently to get rid of the stuff. No, not more things. But more. A
deeper, truer experience in my day-to-day life. More meaning. More purpose.
More…something.
Then yesterday the book One
Thousand Gifts was placed in my hands. I stayed up late delving into it,
and each page I turned breathed new life into me. Every paragraph was
whispering into the dry and weary parts of my heart. I want to experience
eucharisteo - a life of thanksgiving that ushers salvation into every nook and cranny of my life. I am tired
of feeling dissatisfied, when I really do have everything I could ever need or
want. When did it cease to be enough? No, it is more than enough. Let’s get
back to that.
“I remember once sitting at the hairdresser’s. The woman
beside me reads, and I read her title in the reflection of the mirror: 1000 Places to See Before You Die. Is
that it? Are there physical places that simply must be seen before I stop
breathing within time, before I inhale eternity? Why? To say that I’ve had
reason to bow low? To say that I’ve seen beauty? To say that I’ve been arrested
by wonder? Isn’t it here? Can’t I find it here?...Why
do I spend so much of my living hours struggling to see it? Do we truly stumble
so blind that we must be affronted with blinding
magnificence for our blurry soul-sight to recognize grandeur? The very same
surging magnificence that cascades over our every day here. Who has time or
eyes to notice? All my eyes can seem to fixate on are the splatters of disappointment
across here and me…
I don’t need more time to breathe so that I may experience
more locales, possess more, accomplish more. Because wonder really could be
here – for the seeing eyes.” - Ann
Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts
This is lovely. Keep writing. Keep letting go of what you can and holding on to what you should.
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