Wonder

Lord, attune my eyes to wonder.

I am trying to slow down and wake up to the beauty and marvels that surround me. The profound miracle of small things. Breath in the morning - large things.

I ebb and flow into seasons of…stuck. You do too? I fall into the mud of mundanity. My feet sink into the sand of disillusionment. My mind cloaks itself in storm clouds, a familiar yet disorienting slump. Out of nowhere, I slip into a dark lagoon called languish, where disappointments resurface like ripples on the surface of still waters.

These seasons arrive on my heart’s doorstep even when all is well. Sometimes these seasons emerge when things are great - on the outside at least. But on the inside, I feel like cold soup. The ingredients for flavor are there, but the heat and life seem to have seeped away.

It’s at these times that God in his infinite grace grabs my attention. It’s as if the grayness of day after day turns Him brighter. I realize that the Only Son is the only sun I need. Eternal lifeline. All sufficient bright One. The beauty of the Son is found everywhere in creation, His creation.

The Lord leads me back to wonder. It requires my participation. He leads me beside still waters - but do I see it? Do I see the still waters in the quiet glory of early sunshine? He lays me down in green pastures. But do I surrender to the rest that is available in my time with Him, God & me meeting between His pages?

Driving to work, I looked out and I saw for the first time in a long time - the way the September sky kissed the swooning trees in light-tinged hues of blue and purple, beauty exploding through the mist and morning and mundane.

The secret is learning to see again. Learning to see the aching beauty in the places and things we’ve grown accustomed to.

Wake me, Lord, to a million wonders. Hot coffee in the morning. Mountains across a sunsetting sky. Leaves suspended on branches sitting in air. The ocean, rich and salty and unknowable. Soil - earth’s carpet, wildflowers’ womb. Books and books and books - ink and paper and the sweet aroma of age. The edge of sleep. Stars at night. The joy of worship.

Help me, Lord, to surrender my eyesight. To see the beauty that surrounds me. To never treat the gift of life as common.

Lord, change my eyes. To see you better. To see you everywhere. To worship you in everything.

Amen.