“Did you ever hear a small boy complain of having to hang about a railway station and wait for a train? No; for him to be inside a railway station is to be inside a cavern of wonder.” –G.K. Chesterton
Children are naturally creative primarily because they’re curious and playful. The experiment endlessly, let their minds wander freely, and they experience imaginative worlds with such detail that it’s often clever.
Although the adult world is filled with deadlines and pressure, we have to continue to make time to play. It is our duty and our right to create space in our day for imagination. Perhaps then we will be as clever as children.
It’s easy when we’re having interpersonal problems (and how often are our problems not interpersonal?!) to look for someone to blame.
Sometimes we blame ourselves and nearly drown in guilt that may or may not be warranted. Sometimes we blame the other person, searching for flaws, being quick to point out what we find, and often creating an even bigger issue than the original one.
But what if we took a new approach to our many interpersonal issues? What if we stopped brooding over them and instead began to praise God for them?
Interpersonal issues reveal our weak spots, as well as our strengths. They present an opportunity to pause in awe of the delicate patterns which God has woven into our very existence. They ask us to look with wonder at the detail with which each person is carefully crafted; differences, imperfections, all of it.
Rather than trying to “fix” each other, we can instead marvel at just how complicated a species we are, and praise God because He is good and gives us grace.
There is no cure for hot and cold.
There is no cure for the facts of life.
If we can stop trying to escape the inevitable alternation of pleasure and pain, we can simply relax and be fully present for the wonder that is our lives.
When I think about the Universe, how scientists haven’t found the edge of it, how nobody knows exactly where we are on the map…
I think how there are really only two human responses to such beautiful mystery- terror and awe.
God tells us that fear is the appropriate response, that it is the beginning of all wisdom. Yet, I think too much of our time is spent trying to dissect God, to understand Him (so that we no longer have to fear) and too little is spent allowing our hearts to simply feel awe.
It’s ironic; we deprive our hearts of wonder and yet, we need wonder. We need wonder to explain what is going to happen to us. We all know that death is coming and we need something mysterious to happen after it. We need to know that God has things figured out, even if we don’t. We need there to be Someone bigger than us who has it all under control.
Yes, I think this is our greatest worship- wonder.
Ah, yes. Youth.
People fight for it, live for it, die for it. What is our obsession with youth?
I would argue the value of youth is something we know instinctively.
For where there is youth, there is hope…
Where there is hope, there is wonder…
Where there is wonder, there is faith…
Where there is faith, there is chance…
Where there is chance, there is love…
Ah, yes. Alas, love.
We fight for it, live for it, die for it. And rightfully so.
When my boyfriend died, the life I knew died along with him. Shortly thereafter, I packed up all of my belongings, everything I had acquired in California, and drove across the country to be back home again in North Carolina. Because, of course, when the world fails you, the only place you have to go is home.
Within one year, I had a monumental career change, my parents divorced, my childhood home was sold, and I was living on my own in an apartment for the first time in my life. All this change in only one year! Even writing about it now, it seems surreal. How has my life become so crazy, so chaotic? How have I been able to push through, to survive?
Well, God is good. And that is where I am now. Completely lost, approaching the second birthday that I will spend without my boyfriend and the only thing that I know for certain is God’s goodness and grace. Other than that, I feel adrift. Floating in a world that I have no control over, a world that is constantly shifting, one without ground.
I guess on the bright side, I have nothing holding me back. I have no attachments that hold me down, hold me steady. I’m free to fly like a bird, as I have always yearned to do.
This also means I have little security, no sense of stability, a feeling of total loss of control. Does a baby bird feel this way before it leaves its nest for the first time? I wonder. And how many nests will I have to leave? Is flying free really all it’s cracked up to be?
Sometimes I wonder how many people we’ve looked at through the course of our lives but never seen…