Tuhat lahjaa ann voskamp biography

Sometimes I wish that I could sit and have coffee and just talk with Ann, stripping away all of the words that she wraps herself in as a writer. Ann's love for words, for her own thoughts, is both a blessing and a curse. The curse is that too often she dives into her prose, seeking poetry rather than substance. The blessing comes in those moments when she leaves the overly-dramatic monologues of life, leaves the searching for profundity, and simply states truth -- and oh, what treasures of truth. We share much in common, particularly chapters 11 -end.

This. If just this, it would have been enough:
"The broken way begins with this lost art of lament and until we authentically lament to God, we’ll never feel authentically loved by God. Lament’s not a meaningless rage, but a rage that finds meaning in His outrageous love. Lament is an outrage . . . that still trusts in God’s good outcome. Lament’s this articulation of the ache at God’s abandonment, then an acquiescence to His ache, and finally an abandonment to His will. Go ahead, child. Lament carries brokenness in its hands straight into the heart of God and asks for His arms. In the midst of suffering, no one needs clarifying arguments as much as they need to feel arms close. So He gives an experience of Himself instead of mere explanations, because He knows explanations can be cold comfort and His arms are warm."

Here are some more of the blessings I found in this book:

-Who doesn’t know what it’s like to smile thinly and say you’re fine when you’re not, when you’re almost faint with pain? There isn’t one of us not bearing the wounds from our own bloody battles.

-Is there a grace that can bury the fear that your faith isn’t big enough and your faults are too many? A grace that washes your dirty wounds and wounds the devil’s lies? A grace that embraces you before you prove anything—and after you’ve done everything wrong? A grace that holds you when everything is breaking d

(Warning - review sent to family, not edited to protect the feelings of my friends who have read this and may like it...)

I finally, just shy of 7 full months, finished One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp (actually one thousand gifts, looking more closely at the cover). And there is a peak at what I despised about the book. First, however, as Dad taught me, I will say something nice. She does have some good and interesting views on living the Christian life fully, with total gratitude for what God gives you (hence looking for 1000 things for which to be grateful). Take this: "Every moment I live, I live bowed to something. And if I don't see God, I'll bow down before something else" (p 110). Sounds reminiscent of someone else, but still good. So, you may find the book worth reading, if only for the references to other people like CS Lewis and Henri Nouwen. Plus, she married a Dutchman, so what's not to like about that.

But, for the rest - consider this my scathing pregnancy review (a la Three Cups of Tea while pregnant with Naomi). Her style of writing is so poetic, it is gagging. Her misuse of proper grammar was distracting and not inspiring. "Yet, now wisps of cheese tell me gentle that this is the first secret step into eucharsteo's miracle" (p 57). And this is mild, mild!, by comparison to some other sections. In one chapter she is leaving her family at the dinner table to run through their crops to try and catch the moon (?!?!). You can't imagine how long it took me to get through that section! Bleh bleh bleh. Some strange theological ideas mixed in too, but maybe I was misunderstanding her due to the extreme poetic license (and lack of an editor??). To you give you one last glimpse from the acknowledgments at the end, "Caleb, Joshua, Hope, Levi, Malakai, Shalom, six who have swollen me, shaped me, and birthed me into love." Pardon while I breath into a paper bag.

Anyway, feel free to chalk this up to pregnancy. But, I can't read