One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are

by Ann Voskamp

“Thy will be done is My own joy story, child, from beginning to end.”

Use me then, my Savior, for whatever purposes and in whatever way you may require. Here is my poor heart, an empty vessel; fill it with your grace. D. L. Moody

I could let Him make me the gift! I could be the joy!

This life of washing dishes, of domestic routine, it can be something wholly different. This life of rote work, it is itself public work, a public serving—even this scrubbing of pans—and thus, if done unto God, the mundane work can become the living liturgy of the Last Supper.

“whenever man is made the centre of things, he becomes the storm-centre of trouble. The moment you think of serving people, you begin to have a notion that other people owe you something for your pains…. You will begin to bargain for reward, to angle for

When the laundry is for the dozen arms of children or the dozen legs, it’s true, I think I’m due some appreciation. So comes a storm of trouble and lightning strikes joy. But when Christ is at the center, when dishes, laundry, work, is my song of thanks to Him, joy rains. Passionately serving Christ alone makes us the loving servant to all.

our happiness comes, too, not in the having but in the handing over. Give your life away in exchange for many lives, give away your blessings to multiply blessings, give away so that many might increase, and do it all for the love of God. I can bless, pour out, be broken and given in our home and the larger world and never fear that there won’t be enough to give.

God extravagantly pays back everything we give away and exactly in the currency that is not of this world but the one we yearn for: Joy in Him.

it is our very presence in each other’s lives that makes us the gift. It is by the very function of our being, not our doing, that we are the beloved of God. And so we become the love of God, blessing those He loves.

“The way through the pain is to reach out to others in theirs.”

Because with every one of the thousand, endless jobs, I become the gift to God and to others because this work is the public God serving, the daily liturgy of thanks, the completing of the Communion service with my service.

Here I can become the blessing, a little life that multiplies joy, making the larger world a better place.

God can enter into me, even me, and use these hands, these feet, to be His love, a love that goes on and on and on forever, endless cycle of grace. I am nearing the wonder of Communion.

“Gratitude is the most fruitful way of deepening your consciousness that you are … a divine choice,”

“O my soul, thou art capable of enjoying God, woe to thee if thou art contented with anything less than God,”

I can hear Him, what He is telling the whole world and even me here: this is for you. The lover’s smile in the morning, the child’s laughter down the slide, the elder’s eyes at eventide: this is for you. And the earth under your feet, the rain over your face upturned, the stars spinning all round you in the brazen glory: this is for you, you, you. These are for you—gifts—these are for you—grace—these are for you—God, so count the ways He loves, a thousand, more, never stop, that when you wake in the morning you can’t help turn humbly to the east, unfold your hand to the heavens, and though you tremble and though you wonder, though the world is ugly, it is beautiful, and you can slow and you can trust and you can receive each moment as grace.