I have been working my way through One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp since Christmas. This book has changed my life, my heart. Everything really. I’m counting my gifts and keeping eyes open. Looking for God.
I also follow her blog. It’s always a good message with gorgeous pictures. The way she writes is poetry. It always seems to hit my heart strings. Today, though. Today may have been different.
Her post today at A Holy Experience broke me down entirely. I read and had I been somewhere quiet, I would have cried and wept until nothing was left. I may still do so when the moment arises. Today, I know now that the hardness of my heart has softened. And words have fallen to tenderize those tough places in my soul.
Why hadn’t I heard about this before? Why does the world not scream out against such travesty? And this has led to hard eucharisteo, hard thanksgiving. Thanksgiving that I, who was a teen pregnancy, is alive when others weren’t allowed that gift. Thanksgiving despite the horror. I feel the weight and I wonder how I can bear this.