on wonder

My very first memory is the wind. Specifically, the wind blowing the very tops of trees. Before I could talk, the sight (and feel) of wind moving trees amazed me. I would take a deep breath in, taking in the wonder, likely forming early seeds for questions that would grow over time. My second memory is the Easter Bunny, who visited my family’s house on Easter. Now I know it was one of my parents’ students dressed up as the Easter Bunny, but that morning I was in pure wonder mode, as this gigantic Easter Bunny walked through the house, hiding jelly beans in old film canisters, creating an all day scavenger hunt for me.

I look for wonder, you see. If I am not seeing it, it usually means that I am not paying attention or I am moving too fast, so it has become a sort of guide for me. I still look for the wind in the trees. I am drawn to the creative and the colorful. I think we were created to ask beautiful and hard questions and I think that, if we’re lucky, life shakes things up enough to show us what we’re made up. A sense of wonder has been a marker for me, and it is now one of my deepest wishes for my daughters.

I think that God often whispers. I think that there are all sorts of signs of love around us, but we often skip right past them on our way to get to the next thing. I suppose that wonder requires a certain childlike way of seeing the world, and what could be more beautiful? One of my biggest blessings is getting to be a mother, and many of my lessons are given to me by my children, who see wonder in so many things around them. I can’t write without wonder, as it weaves through everything I do and see.

Wonder is fast friends with creativity more often than not, and it often requires putting perfection aside. I am humbled by the wonders of the world.


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