Wherever You Are, Be All There

I'm currently reading a book by Ann Voskamp called One Thousand Gifts. The author, who has been diagnosed with cancer, shares her journey of learning to live more fully and deeply, of soaking up all that life has to offer-both the good and the bad-and experiencing true joy. In her reflections on life-on the often mundane and unexciting daily tasks required of us- and the painful experiences-the loss and regret that we all to often cloak ourselves in-she explores the possibility of practicing thankfulness (eucharisteo) and how true and intentional thankfulness in all circumstances can transform our lives and leave us more fulfilled than we ever imagined possible. Perhaps a bit cliche, and she's certainly not the first to propose the idea, but I think there's something for all of us in this search for fulfillment and contentment.

I'm 69 pages in and have really been struck by some of the things she writes and how she writes them. So honest and so simple, yet so profound. Perhaps it's because I've been feeling short of words as of late, or perhaps it's because her words ring true in my life and have reminded me of who I want to be when I grow up. In the few pages that I read tonight, this line stood out to me most: "Wherever you are, be all there." Honest and simple, yet profound. Be all there.

This is something that I've struggled with quite a bit in my life, particularly the past few years. I think that the "Wherever you are" has not necessarily been the "Where you want to be" for me. Of course, if you asked me where I want to be, I don't know if I could tell you. Knowing myself (which I like to take credit for every once in a while), I'd probably respond by saying "anywhere but here." Isn't that the truth? There's always a destination, an aspiration, a goal to be achieved. There's always a greener lawn and a bluer sky and warmer sun. A better job. A more exciting chapter in life. And there's usually discontentment and daydreaming and wishing for a different "wherever you are."

But where's the thankfulness? And where's the joy? And the contentment? Is that something that's being practiced? Where's the eucharisteo? This is where I am. In Philly. Ardmore, to be exact. I'm at my job, and I'm at my church, and I'm in my bedroom that's smaller than I want it to be. And I'm single. But am I present? Am I here? Am I living in the moment and soaking up the experiences and investing in the people and opportunities around me? To the fullest? Am I engaged? I think that's my goal for this year. To be more engaged. Not the kind that comes with a shiny ring, but the kind that comes comes with practicing eucharisteo for the little things and the big things, the kind that can even be thankful for the speed bumps and potholes along the way, because those are part of the journey, and they are part of the "wherever you are." They are part of where I am. And while I suspect that I will always be hopeful for a warmer sun, I'm going to try to be more intentional about enjoying my current view. Kind of like a daffodil bud patiently waiting out the winter, taking it in for what it offers, in anticipation of spring.

I'll end with this line from her book:

"Thanksgiving-giving thanks in everything-is what prepares the way for salvation's whole restoration. Our salvation in Christ is real, yet the completeness of that salvation is not fully realized in a life until the life realizes the need to give thanks. In everything?"

Yes, in everything.

So Long, Early Twenties. 'Twas Nice Knowing You.

It's not like I'm expecting to feel any different. After all, this birthday will be just like the rest. I'll wake up in the morning and think to myself, "Anna, you are now one year older. Better start investing in anti-wrinkle cream." (Ha!). Nothing will have changed from today, when I am twenty-four, except that I'll be twenty-five, a quarter of a century old, and my car insurance rates will drop because I will officially be beyond the "wreck-less" years.

I realize that twenty-five is the new eighteen -or so I've been told- but for some reason, twenty-five seems different that the first five years of my twenties. It seems so much older. After all, my age can now be rounded to thirty, which is a terrifying thought (apologies to anyone reading this who is older than I am and is currently rolling their eyes at the thought of twenty-five being old- I'll be in your shoes one day soon). Everyone I talk to keeps telling me that twenty-five is young and that I still have my whole life ahead of me to figure things out. It's funny, though. Seems like the older I get, the less I have figured out. Or maybe that's the point.

Socrates once said, "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with. Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one that knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have.

As I kiss twenty-four goodbye, I'd like to reflect on twenty-four things that I'm thankful for:

1. A God who loves me unconditionally, died and was resurrected to save me, and continues to pursue a relationship with me
2. The greatest parents in the world, who would do anything for me
3. Three amazing siblings who are such a joy and are growing up to be such wonderful individuals
4. The best girlfriends in the world, who often know me better than I know myself, and who, despite the distances, remain a constant source of support in my life
5. Grandparents who have been praying for me every day since I was born
6. A close-knit extended family who all love and support each other
7. The man who loves me
8. Jack and Walter
9. My church community
10. My job
11. Having a college degree
12. My international travel experiences
13. My Canon 20D
14. Good health
15. A car that works
16. My giant bedroom with a non-leaking roof over my head
17. My singing voice
18. The gift of creativity and art
19. Colleagues who care about me
20. The lovely weather we've been having this spring
21. Four weeks vacation every year
22. Living in a country where I can openly profess my faith
23. Having clean water to drink
24. Laughter