This past week a friend and fellow GriefShare leader recommended a book by author Ann Voskamp, “one thousand gifts.” I bought the book and took it with me to read on vacation. What a life-changer.
Ms. Voskamp issued a challenge to make a list of a thousand gifts for which I am thankful. Gifts God gives me each day. Gifts I brush aside or fail to notice. Gifts for which I never say thank you to my loving Father for giving, just because He loves me.
I took Ann’s challenge and this week’s blog will be a compilation of my musings and photos taken while on vacation to Hilton Head Island and Charleston, South Carolina, where I stopped, took notice, and thanked God for these gifts, precious things to me.
I pray you too will be compelled to pick up your pen and paper to begin your list. And while you’re out and about, pick up her book at your local bookstore. It’s so worth the read. It will change your life. Let me hear how your list is changing you.
The pungent odor of salt-water marshes that tickle my memories of collecting fiddler-crabs with my Dad. Thank you Father for these brackish swamps filled with life.
Gray wisps of Spanish moss dangle and swirl from ancient live-oaks like ghosts from ages past. Father, how I’ve missed these giant trees.
Waves that ripple and race along the shore line then retreat with a whisper to the sea. How often I chased them as I grew up along the Florida coast. Thank You for the ocean waves, Father.
Waves that swell and crest then crash in bursts to weave lacy patterns on the wet beach sand. The power of these currents place an awe in my heart and mind for you, O God.
Little girls in pony-tails and ruffled brims. Squeal and splash through ocean pools left in the sand. What precious gifts these children are, Lord. Thank You.
Small boys racing, nets in hand, chasing gulls from their place in the sand. The wonder of a freckled-faced boy, Father. Your creation.
A toddler stomps to see splashes form. Then wiggles his toes in the water so warm.
Sea grass and sea oats, green and gold,
kissed by summer days, gently waving
in the sun.
Historic oaks with branches sprawling,
dapples of sunlight dancing on the
ground.
My pallet colors streak across the morning sky, melting
to a puddle where sea and sky collide.
Thank You Father!
God’s silent promise. Dawn. A new day.
“The Mighty One, God, the Lord, has spoken and summoned the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting. Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God has shone forth,” (Psalm 50:1 NAS).
MOVING THE ANCIENT BOUNDARIES 