eucharisteo.

I'm three and a half chapters into Ann Voskamp's 1000 Gifts. I started it yesterday, eager for something new and challenging to sink my teeth into. As a person who, probably like most on the planet, struggles daily to maintain an attitude of thankfulness and contentment, I thought this might hold some valuable wisdom for me.

I was right.

In a nutshell, her challenge is to chronicle every little thing you realize you love, daily. To see what God has given, to appreciate it, and to thank Him for it. She calls it a "dare," and it is. The truest love dare there is. A dare to see the love God bestows, every minute, seemingly inconsequential detail of it, and love it back, and give thanks. Eucharisteo.

I've thought a lot about what it means to live a sacramental life, to bleed the love and joy of my salvation just as Christ did for me, and here- a very real, visceral way of demonstrating it, of bleeding it in thanksgiving. 

I want to bleed beautifully. He spoke beauty into being in poetry and song, and He calls us to do as He does: to use the words He has given to magnify His gifts, to "give them back to God."

So here I go. I hope to magnify through my meager speech, as much as I can, what God bestows daily. The small. The taken-for-granted. Because it is when we start to acknowledge that they mean something, something truly incredible and unimaginable, that we become overwhelmed by their significance, washed over by their beauty and import.

Here's to being overwhelmed, over and over again, day after day, year after year.

Soli gratias deo.