“Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.” – Socrates
When the heroine of E.B. White’s classic children’s novel “Charlotte’s Web” first writes “SOME PIG” in her web in an attempt to save her friend Wilbur’s life, she was creating more than a PR campaign. She was creating wonder. She was making everyone who saw her web stop in their tracks, stand back, scratch their heads, and try to contemplate something they couldn’t fathom. That seems like a pretty good way to go through life.
Last weekend, I gave a retreat near St. Louis for a group of people from all over the country who belong to a group called the Victorious Missionaries. They are, according to their website, “people united in providing spiritual support for people with disabilities or who are chronically ill. They are visionary people called to a way of life that sees beyond the suffering and struggles of life to the victory that is born through the spirit of love.” So they came in wheelchairs and walkers and they came with their medical assistants and family members to help them. Some came bearing pain. But none let their disabilities and diseases define them, for they came hungry for the community of each other (both old friends and new) and they came ready to be challenged and drawn closer into the presence of God. I stood in wonder (the teacher being taught), watching their joy and their awareness of life, love and God. It’s a pretty good way to go through life.
I told them on our first night that I would be challenging them. Challenging them to consider that God is in all things, so they better learn to pay attention to everything. Challenging them to find God in the silent moments they can create for themselves in the midst of their busy and often difficult lives, because that’s where God can be heard. Challenging them to find God in other people, even in those they don’t think they like, for surely God is present in us all. And challenging them to discern and name that thing for which they have been created and called. So much of this comes down to paying attention, and that’s also a good way to go through life.
This week, Sue and I are in Arizona. We spent the first few days with great friends in the southern part of state near Tucson, where we stood amazed in Saguaro National Park, surrounded by the rugged terrain that only time can create, astounded by the soaring height and beauty of the saguaro cacti themselves, piercing a sky so blue we were forced to scratch our heads in wonder. Why are we allowed such beauty?
After a four-hour drive north, we are now settling into a new kind of astonishing beauty among the red rocks of Sedona, the kind of beauty that literally causes you to clutch your chest and feel your heart beating, your eyes wide and your soul awake in order to take it all in, your mind echoing the words of Rachel Carson: “What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?”
It is, of course, easier to pay attention and find and experience God when you’re standing amid such surroundings. But life cannot and should not be measured by how many national parks and wonders of the world we visit and by how many experiences we check off a bucket list. Travel helps, no doubt. It is a blessing for those who can do it. But the one with the most travel points does not win.
Wonder and beauty are all around us every day in every place, hidden sometimes like a glittering web in the corner of a barn or disguised by someone else’s life that — at first glance — perhaps looks too difficult to enjoy or too broken to contain beauty. We need to look closer. We need to be willing to redefine beauty and shift our own expectations of where we might find it.
“Pay attention,” I told my new friends on retreat. “Look over there!” I say to Sue when I see something I don’t want her to miss. “Slow down and watch,” I say to myself over and over. Scan the landscape looking for coyotes. See the hummingbird at the feeder. Don’t miss the people who have something to teach you. Notice God in the details — in the glittering corner of the barn telling you how special and loved you are.
Judi says
Awesome, Steve.
Jim Davis says
Thank you for sharing GOD’s world!
Peter says
Even when I can’t sleep the luminous figures on the alarm clock glow in the dark reminding me that ‘The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armour of light.’ Romans 13:12. God is there too overcoming the darkness
Kathleen says
Beautiful thoughts and words, once again. Thank you Steve. Safe and glorious travels for you and Sue.
Sheila Wagner says
Beautiful & inspiring as usual, thank you.
Barbara says
I love Charlotte. She taught me to love spiders and all sorts of creatures I was always afraid of. Everything in God’s creation can be loved. As you say, slow down and watch and maybe understand.
admin says
Thanks for writing and noticing, Barbara.
admin says
Thanks, Sheila.
admin says
Thanks, Kathleen. How’s everyone in the family?
admin says
Thanks, Peter. Read you soon!
admin says
Thanks for writing, Jim.
admin says
Thanks, and thanks for sharing, JL.
Jan says
To “redefine beauty” as you wrote struck a chord with me. I have dreaded the dead look of winter this year more then ever before. I was recently on a brief trip and when I returned home, all the beauty of my garden and flowers had been blackened by a freeze. As distressing as this seemed, I suddenly realized that the blackness I was seeing was an “everything is as it should be” moment. As I clean out the blackness, it is a preparation for the new that will surely come, as God wills and when He wills. The bareness of the ground will be a reminder of the beauty of new birth to come.
admin says
Beautiful reflection, Jan. The same happens to me whenever I arrive at a place like Arizona…it’s not immediately what I think of as beautiful because it’s not “in your face” beauty. It’s not green and plush. There are not an abundance of flowers, etc. But then you look closer and there it is, beauty redefined in browns and grey…and there are still plenty of greens. There is beauty in the starkness and ruggedness of the landscape. I may write more about this…thanks for the prompt.
Elizabeth Gallow says
Thank you for all that you share so generously, I have read you in Living Faith, sent to me by a friend, for years. You are in my prayers as I thank God for a shared journey.
May the Infant Jesus bring you many gifts in His little hands this Christmas. Sincerely Elizabeth.
Phil says
I am a new reader who discovered your blog in living faith. Looks like I have become a regular reader of Steve Givens for inspiration and hope. Thank you.
admin says
Thanks for writing, Phil, and thanks for joining up. Here’s to a year of physical, spiritual and creative growth…although I’m trying to cut back on the “physical” growth…
admin says
Thanks, Elizabeth, for writing and for your kind words. All the best to you and yours in this New Year.